


The Great Dipper

by EightLeggedFox



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Life Ramblings, M/M, Road Trips, hardhoon, softniel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 62,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EightLeggedFox/pseuds/EightLeggedFox
Summary: Taking a break from his life in the city, Jihoon goes on a cross-country road trip with nothing but his pickup and an open mind. A time to reflect and heal—or so until he meets a stranger by the road with colorful clothing and a penchant for sweets.Two lost boys who meet in the most unexpected of ways, trying to live one day at a time.
Relationships: Kang Daniel/Park Jihoon
Comments: 28
Kudos: 51





	1. Colorful Strangers and How To Find them

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably stop labeling the stuff I write as 'my last nielwink fic' because I'm really just clowning myself at this point lol. In my defense, when I had this idea back in December, I had every intention to write this as a maybe-short oneshot after [The Last Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755902) and—well, I think I'm finally learning the true extent of my incapability to actually write something short haha.
> 
> Anyway, this story was inspired by a tonne of different reasons but it ultimately boils down to [THIS](https://i.imgur.com/V7ttgIm.jpg) imagery we were all blessed with back in late-2019. idk but something really just clicked in my head after seeing this and now here we are.
> 
> A fair bit of warning. This is a little different(?) from the stories I've written before and a little more mature(?), I guess. I don't and won't go into detail, but I'll include a warning on parts where they're necessary. yeah.

A slow rumbling whine that vibrates all the way to the bones of his fingers is the last thing he hears before the stillness of death occupies the space around him. The steady hum of the engine vanishes in place of silence, and only the frustrated breath he lets out echoes inside his ears for the next few passing seconds. He turns the key in the ignition—three times—and all it does is make a resounding click that more or less confirms that yes, his truck is dead. 

“Fuck.”

Jihoon sighs and leans forward, softly bumping his forehead to the top of his steering wheel as a form of self-admonishment. He just _had_ to risk it—just _had_ to be stubborn about not replacing his battery while he was at the last town he stopped at and stretch the already waning life of the one he has now. 

He lets out another sigh of exasperation, irked by the fact that he doesn’t even have anyone but himself to blame for getting into this predicament. He allows himself a few minutes of stew-time before finally raising his head off the steering wheel and unbuckling the seatbelts to step out of the car. 

The mid-afternoon sun kisses his blonde locks just as a small gust of cool wind ruffles it in its passing. Jihoon runs a hand through them, stretching his arms and legs in the process of looking around and surveying the road bridge he’s broken down on. In his bout of frustration, he only just realizes that there’s no traffic around this part of the highway and his is literally the only car in sight within the visible, ten-mile radius.

So when his eyes land on the only other person standing a little way further over on the other side of the bridge, he thinks it’s perfectly acceptable for his heart to jump a little in unexpected surprise. A small yelp would even be warranted, but he manages to bite down the impulse on account that the visual he’s presented with stuns him to silence. 

Even at his current distance, he can clearly see the bright turquoise and yellow hoodie stark against the background of trees and plains beyond the bridge. The man wearing it is just standing there, staring beyond the bridge’s railings and seemingly oblivious to his presence.

It’s strange, to say the least, and Jihoon only realizes he’s staring quite rudely when the colorful-stranger breaks his gaze from where he’s pointedly staring down at the river beneath the bridge and turns his head to look at him. 

Feeling caught red-handed, Jihoon immediately looks away and bites his lower lip down in an attempt to ward off the awkwardness he feels racing up in the hairs of his neck. He doesn’t have to exert that much effort though, not when he’s painfully reminded of why he’s even here in the first place as he turns around to face his pickup.

The battery. Right.

With a heavy sigh, he saunters over to the back and hauls himself up the cargo bed to pilfer through his trunk—pulling a portion of the tarp-flap up so he can take out the spare battery he carries along with his toolbox. He’s thankfully had the common sense to pack one, and he swallows that small consolation to cheer himself up over his mishap as he pops the hood and rolls up the sleeves of his flannel to get to work.

The task isn't new to him, so it only takes half an hour at the maximum to replace the battery and another half to get his engine back up and running again. Although he still feels a little sour over the idea that he could've done all this in the relative comfort of a gas station where he could snack and drink a slushie while he's working, he feels a little proud that he's managed to finish the endeavor at just the right time—the wind is starting to pick up, carrying with it the weight of a cold breeze and the smell of oncoming rain that's also marked by the darkening sky. 

He packs up and pulls the tonneau cover over the top of the cargo bed, making sure he's all set and ready before he finally climbs back behind the wheel. The first prattles of rain are already starting to trickle over his windshields, and it's only after he's strapped himself in and starts the engine that he notices and remembers the only other person in the immediate vicinity. 

Colorful-stranger is still standing at the exact same spot, staring at the waters below the bridge they're on and continuing to pay him and the coming rain no mind. Still strange, Jihoon thinks, but this time his sense of humanity wins over his ingrained introversion and he drives forward and rolls his window down when he passes by.

"Hey."

There's a small and subtle jerk of colorful-stranger's shoulders when he startles at his voice right before he turns around and slowly meets his gaze. From this distance, Jihoon can see a lot more details now; like the fact that he's wearing glasses where his copper-brown hair falls over and skims the top of the rims that hold soft eyes of confusion.

"You okay there?" Jihoon asks, earning him an even bigger expression of confoundment from the other person. "It looks like it's going to rain pretty hard soon, and the next town's still a couple of kilometers away at least," he says, stating the obvious and gesturing to the darkening sky. "Do you need a ride?"

Silence. And if anything, whatever he just said only seems to startle the man some more—if the way his eyes widen and his mouth fumbles wordlessly is anything to go by. 

"Ah, n-no—I, umm—" Colorful-stranger's voice is deep and husky, a complete opposite from the way he looks and trips over his words. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"You sure?" Jihoon raises a sincere eyebrow, watching as the droplets of rain start to fall more quickly over his windshield and in turn, the man’s hoodie—leaving behind dark, dotted patches over the turquoise fabric.

"Yes. I'm fine," he says again, and with it comes a small, tight-lipped smile; imperfect in such that one of his upper teeth snags at his lower lip that shows a small quarter of a buck tooth. It's innocent, although something tells Jihoon that it's insincere.

"Okay then. Suit yourself." He gives him one final nod before he pushes a button to slide his window back up. It's not any of his business anyway, and he's already done quite a huge leap by asking _and_ offering help to a complete stranger, no less. It's not his responsibility—or so he tells himself as he starts driving away just as the rain finally begins to really pour from the heavens.

A quick glance at the rearview mirror shows him that colorful-stranger is already drenched in the time it takes him to drive the few couple meters away from the road bridge. He checks the temperature reading on one of the digital icons over on his dashboard monitor, knowing without a doubt that the hoodie the guy has on most likely isn't going to help him stay warm—much less _dry—_ in any way. Jihoon reaches about a few meters past, just until the bridge becomes a distant reflection in his mirrors, when he sighs and ultimately decides to put a foot on the brakes and shift his gears to reverse.

"Hey!" He calls back out once he’s driven back, startling the man once again with his voice and a short pump of his car horn. He only has his side window down by an inch and yet the splatter of rain and the cold breeze pierces easily to the interior of his truck. "Come on, hop in! The rain's only going to get worse!" He gestures vigorously with his hands, beckoning the man towards him. 

As if on cue, a flash of white light cracks across the sky that's closely followed by a rumbling clap of thunder, shaking the earth in a light tremor. Thankfully it serves as enough of a persuasion to finally snap colorful-stranger out of his stubbornness and push him into a rush to make it to the other side of the vehicle. 

Jihoon hits the automatic locks once the door slams shut, failing to bite down the shiver he feels at the sudden cold entering from the outside. It’s a little hard to believe that he was just out there himself a few minutes ago fixing his car when the weather was the complete opposite. He can only imagine what it's like for the man sitting beside him now, currently soaked to the bone with his sneakers squelching on the floor of his car seat.

"You okay?" He asks his new passenger, reaching forward to switch the air conditioning to heat. When he looks at him, there’s evident shock and piled hesitation in his eyes beneath the splattered wetness of his glasses; conflicting thoughts obviously running rampant. 

"I—I'm sorry," is the first thing out of colorful-stranger's mouth, a tremble in his voice that doesn't look like it’s caused by the chill alone. "I'm getting your seat wet. I-I don't—"

"It's okay." Jihoon flashes him his most reassuring smile, showing that he doesn't really mind. "I can always get it dry later. Don't worry about it."

It doesn't seem to placate the man in the least, but he nods all the same with his lips tucked between his teeth. He's so stiff and apprehensive, Jihoon notes, seeing as both his hands are wound tight over his lap and showing whitened knuckles. He's not even sitting on a quarter of the real estate the seat offers; his back taut and straight in obvious trepidation while most his body hangs on the precipice of the car seat. At the moment, Jihoon can only think to attribute all this to the fact that it's because he’s inside a total stranger’s car, so he keeps up what he thinks is a warm smile before extending a hand forward.

“I’m Jihoon,” he says, not missing the way the other person flinches a bit at the gesture. There's a few awkward seconds of his hand hanging idly in midair before they finally shake.

“Daniel," he answers, short and clipped to an abrupt halt when he clamps his lips shut again. He looks at their hands together before sharply pulling back, eyes wide in panic. “S-sorry! My hand—”

“It’s just rainwater. It’s fine,” Jihoon says, although his words fall short of comfort much like earlier. So much for a warm greeting. “Nice to meet you, Daniel.”

He gets a nod and a precarious upturn of the mouth at least, one that only lasts for a few seconds before his face goes back to being timid and anxious. Jihoon watches him for a while, and he realizes too late that he’s staring again up until the moment Daniel looks up and he flinches from his gaze. Jihoon swears he can see the physical form of regret forming in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—” Daniel looks down at himself, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m so sorry for troubling you.” He turns to open the door but fails when the lock keeps him in place. Suddenly Jihoon can’t help but feel like he’s in a bad psycho-movie cliche where he’s kidnapping an innocent stranger off the road so he can kill him off somewhere. And as much as he wants to say that out loud in sarcasm and maybe laugh about it, he doesn’t think it would help with the situation he’s in.

“Look, if you really don’t want my help then that’s fine with me. I’m not going to keep you in here if it makes you uncomfortable,” he says, finally going for his usual unfiltered honesty and dropping his smile a few notches down. If a warm persona doesn’t get the guy to relax a little, then what’s the point in trying? 

“You can go if you want. All I’m saying is, I’m driving over to the next town anyway. I don’t mind giving you a ride if you need it, especially with the rain coming down like this.” He continues, tipping his head to the windshield where the downpour is drumming a deafening symphony on the glass; a testament to how strong it's coming down. “Just tell me that you’re really sure about going out there again. I’ll let you go.”

His approach this time seems to strike a chord when Daniel’s brows furrow in contemplation, a visible sign that he’s at least starting to take his words into consideration. He looks out the window too, and Jihoon can see in the way his shoulders tense and his breath hitches that he’s hesitating in going back out into the cold again. That sliver of doubt is apparently enough when after what seems like a long while, common sense prevails in this silent inner battle of sorts and he slowly takes his hand off the car door to settle back on his seat. He doesn’t relax—at least, not completely—but it’s a start.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude—it’s just...I don’t want to be a burden.”

Jihoon scoffs in a light chuckle, smirking. “You hardly are. And I wouldn't be offering if I minded,” he says lightly, turning to face the road again and checking his dashboard monitor for a route to take. So maybe it isn’t the _total_ truth that he was planning on stopping over to the next town, but he figures that Daniel doesn’t need to know that little detail. It isn't that terrible of an idea anyway either considering the current weather, so he taps a few buttons and gets ready for the drive. “Strap in. Just relax, okay?”

This time, Daniel does what he says and finally allows himself to sink back on the backrest of his seat. He pulls the seatbelt over himself, and Jihoon only starts moving forward after he hears the buckle click.

For a while all that occupies the interior space of the car is the silent hum of the engine and the muffled sound of the deluge happening outside. Indistinguishable pitter-patters on the tough glass of the windshield and the car roof, blurring together to a uniform sound that's not unlike an empty channel of a radio. Jihoon doesn't mind the speechless silence, having gotten used to it himself to the point of contentment that he doesn't really notice the restless fidgeting happening next to him. It's only when another crack of thunder resounds around them that he sees his passenger jump a little in his peripheral vision, making him look.

“Are you still cold?” Jihoon asks, noticing the slight shaking of Daniel’s fingers by his lap. He doesn’t wait for an answer and just bumps the heater up, this time making sure to also turn on the exhausts by the footwells. “Let me know if it’s too much, alright? I’ll turn it down.”

Daniel nods at him, his voice coming out thick and hoarse. “T-thanks.” The twiddling of his fingers stop, only for them to go over at a tear on the thigh of his ripped jeans and worrying a few loose threads.

It's inconsequential, but now that Jihoon notices this anxious little habit, it's all he can do not to fixate on it and just focus on driving. He's always been the type to be a little oblivious to the people around him, but the moment he picks up on something he can't help but feel a little hyper aware to it. He keeps glancing to the side now every few seconds, more often than what can be excused for merely looking at his side mirrors. 

"So, Daniel," he says despite himself. The name still feels foreign on his tongue, and he cringes at how forced and high-pitched his voice sounds when he says it. Thankfully the person he's talking to seems to be more preoccupied over the fact that he's actually talking to him, rather than how awkward he sounds in doing so.

"What were you doing back there? At the road bridge?" Jihoon asks casually, hoping to alleviate some of the quiet tension in the air around them with small talk. It does the opposite effect, however, when he notices Daniel's fingers only fidgeting more over his query.

"Oh, I was...umm—" The hesitation is thick in him, enough for Jihoon to tell that the next thing he’s about to say is probably a lie. "I was...travelling. And I kinda got lost. I stopped at the bridge to check directions.”

It doesn’t even sound remotely believable, but he supposes nothing good will come for saying that out loud. “Oh. I hope I’m not taking you further than you intended,” he says instead, playing along and glancing at their GPS on the screen. “We’re still a bit far though, did you want to change routes?”

“Ah, n-no. It’s fine.” Daniel faces him, giving a small wave with his hands. “I can just take a bus from the next town to where I’m heading. No worries.”

That’s fair enough, Jihoon thinks as he hums in assent. He doesn’t mind being lied to, and he's already meddled enough on what’s really none of his business anyway so he supposes it’s best to just go along with whatever his passenger is willing to take rather than impose more altercations for his obvious anxiety. Deciding not to press any further, Jihoon forces himself to settle with the answers he's been given and goes back to a somewhat comfortable silence—only to be deftly broken by Daniel himself seconds later.

“Umm...earlier—” He starts, voice low and quiet and barely audible against the rain. “—when your car broke down. I-I’m sorry...I feel kinda guilty hitching a ride when I didn’t even lend you a hand.”

“Hmm? Oh, that? Nah, it’s cool.” Jihoon assures him, tipping the corners of his mouth up in a small smile. “The battery just needed changing. It’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Still.” Daniel bites his lips, the habit becoming a normal quirk to him now. ”I should’ve at least asked if you needed help or something.”

“You say that as if it’s your fault I broke down in the first place.” Jihoon chuckles, the sound carrying over a light breath of air. “Thinking about it now actually, I guess If my car broke down any later than it did I’d probably be stranded in this rain with no means to patch up the problem, and you’d be out in the wet and cold in the middle of nowhere. I suppose I should consider it a stroke of luck, really”

Daniel then joins him with his own sound of laughter, one that’s a bit more hollow and dejected in tone. “Yeah. Lucky.” And as if catching himself in his sudden shift, he flinches a bit and shakes his head in retraction. “T-thank you though. That should’ve been the first thing I said to you when you came back for me. Not a lot of people are open to letting in a wet stranger into their expensive cars.”

“I guess I’m not like most people then.” Jihoon nods in nonchalance, before turning his head a little with his eyebrows raised. “What makes you say my car is expensive?”

The apprehension returns to Daniel’s face, stiffening his features as if he’d been caught in something unfavorable. Jihoon almost completely anticipates it even, when Daniel’s lips find their way between his teeth that—at this close of a proximity—reveal his obvious buck-tooth more.

“Umm—I...just assumed. All cars are expensive, right?” 

Jihoon regards the innocence of his answer, unable to hold back the light chuckle that escapes out of his lungs seconds after. He shakes his head in a smile, glad to see that Daniel has at least eased up a bit before they both face the road again. They’re mostly quiet afterwards, holding a silence that’s thankfully not inflated with awkwardness; with Jihoon merely asking him again if he’s feeling warm enough and Daniel replying with a soft ‘yes’ to fill the static soundlessness of their two-hour drive. 

They begin to see a few other cars on the road first right before they spot the huge, glowing sign of a Shell gas station a few ways ahead. The small town-proper follows immediately right after, replacing their blurred view of empty plains and grass fields with shops and small establishments that glow on the insides through their wet windows; lights distorted by the water dancing on the glass. The rain hasn’t let up one bit.

“You can just drop me off at the convenience store,” Daniel says, breaking the muteness and pointing at the small 7-11 ahead of them. 

“You sure?” Jihoon glances at his monitor, reading the icons floating over the map. “The bus terminal’s still a few meters from here. I can drop you off there, it’s no problem.”

“No. I-I mean—” Daniel swallows, eyes swerving in the darkness of the car cabin. “I...have a few things I need to buy first. It’s okay, the terminal isn’t that far a walk.”

“But in the rain?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow, concerned. Daniel just shrugs at him.

“I’m all wet anyway. I don’t mind.”

It’s a pointless argument now, one that Jihoon is a little disappointed over. Maybe the two hours they spent in comfortable silence during the drive here wouldn't be enough to break any walls, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t at least hope a little. He sighs, pulling at the curb and hitting the hazard lights before shifting into park and unlocking the doors.

“Last chance to ask me to wait for you so you can get to the terminal dry,” Jihoon says coolly with feigned indifference. He already expects the answer he's going to get, so he's deftly stunned to bewildered silence when Daniel actually flashes him his first smile.

"You've already done so much for me, I should know where to draw the line," he says, his tight-lipped expression burning bright in the darkness. "Thank you, Jihoon. I'm really grateful for your help."

The latch of a seatbelt clicks, and this time it's Daniel who puts a hand forward for him to shake. Jihoon doesn't hesitate, pulling his lips taut in return when he nods. Nothing much is exchanged after that when Daniel just turns to open the passenger door and heads outside. 

Jihoon looks on for a few more silent seconds, watching Daniel pull his hood up as he makes a run for the shelter of the convenience store. He doesn't waste another second, releasing his hold on the break and driving away before he even gets the chance to see the other person turning to give him a final wave.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He decides to stay in town, seeing as there's no point in wasting the trip to get here. The rain, if anything, is just coming down harder anyway and the idea of sleeping in a bed tonight wins a hundred times over as opposed to doing it in his car seat.

The motel he pulls over at a few minutes later is the only one in the small town; a basic, four-storey, L-shaped concrete building with cracking walls and a poorly lit facade that's just a few meters away from the convenience store. It isn't the warmest attraction, but Jihoon's never really been picky about the places he stays at anyway so he doesn't think twice; he grabs his duffel bag from the backseat before he heads out into the rain and makes a run for the entrance.

The mild scent of artificial lavender greets him as he enters, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see that despite the dilapidated appearance of the establishment from the outside, the interior holds the complete opposite. The linoleum floors are clean thanks to the large floor mat by the door that keeps wet guests from muddying the place, and the lighting is thought out and decorated in such a way that it makes the lobby feel warm and cozy despite only having a few fake plants, a small wicker loveseat pushed against one wall, and a front desk as its only pieces of furniture.

The nice, young lady who welcomes him and gives him a room is also a plus—beautiful and petite as she flusters and blushes when Jihoon leans in a little too close over the counter when he goes to check-in. It aptly gets him thinking about the last time he got laid, being that time a few weeks back when he met that young man with the milky-white skin over at the small pub he went drinking to a couple of towns over. Maybe he can strike a conversation with the girl later, invite him to his room perhaps—and he’s in the process of entertaining the thought when he reaches the door with the same number as that on the keycard he was given.

The fake lavender scent still lingers even inside the room, although it’s much fainter and milder than it was down in the lobby. The bed looks clean with its funky orange and lime green sheets, matching the carpeted floor that swirls into patterns in the expanse of the room. His body immediately loosens up and relaxes at the sight alone, and it only just dawns on him then that the last time he got laid was also the last time he had spent the night on a proper bed.

Not wanting to dirty-up the place too much, he trades his black Converse for some bedroom slippers by the door and puts his duffel bag on the small armchair in the corner that serves as the only other available surface besides the bed. He decides to take a shower first, a good and long one, and change into a clean shirt and a pair of black joggers before promptly crashing on the bed.

Thoughts of sex and the pretty girl who runs the lobby escape him almost immediately at the feel of the matress and pillows beneath him, and he thinks he can even fall asleep in seconds had it not been for the sudden growling of his stomach. Life on the road must be getting to him—he can’t believe he almost forgot to eat dinner.

Jihoon gets up then, reluctantly leaving the comforts of the bed to peer outside the only window in the room. He lets out a childish whine when he sees that it’s still raining, sighing all the way as he gets his wallet and goes to pick up his dirty socks to put his shoes back on and head outside.

“Hi. Sorry, but may I borrow an umbrella?” He asks the pretty girl down at the lobby again, shamelessly batting his eyes in a way that he’s sure will make her weak. He chuckles when all she does is let out a squeak and a nod, pointing to the umbrella rack by the entrance.

“Thanks,” he says as he picks one up, and maybe his dick is still kind of doing the thinking for him when he winks at the girl before he heads out. But whatever libido he’s had in the past hour or so leaves his body entirely, however, the moment he steps outside. 

It’s freezing. The wind is biting his ears and cutting through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. His coat is up in his room and he curses in his head and berates himself for not even thinking of bringing it down with him. His frustration and laziness rise much higher though, and he treads on like the stubborn man that he is.

Thankfully it’s not that far of a walk to the convenience store, and the umbrella he has manages to keep him dry for most the entire way. His toes are starting to get soaked though, and the chill creeping down the soles of his feet is making him shiver. He lets out a breath of relief when he finally begins to see the bright green, red, and orange lights of his destination, but his inward celebration is cut to an abrupt halt when he spots something oddly familiar in the same line of vision.

Over on the wooden bench situated a little to the side of the entrance to the 7-11 is a man in the same turquoise and yellow hoodie that Jihoon is no stranger to.

He glances to his left and to his right, noting the apparent emptiness of the road that tells him he’s still alone. A number of thoughts race around Jihoon’s head that all but serve to deepen the confused frown that’s starting to etch itself on his face. He starts walking closer, confirming that underneath the hood that’s pulled over the wet and matted brown head of hair is indeed Daniel—slouched and asleep right where he’s sitting.

Jihoon is almost entirely rendered speechless by the sight alone. He doesn’t understand, because how on earth is he managing to withstand this cold? How is he able to fall asleep with his clothes completely damp and constantly splashed by the dripping rain falling over him from a leak above the awning? What is he even still doing here?

“Hey.” He tries, but Daniel remains still and unconscious, completely oblivious to him. Jihoon just shakes his head, finally getting himself to move to enter the convenience store.

A smile and a quick question to the flustered young teen manning the cash register tells him all he needs to know of what happened in the last two hours since he first drove and dropped someone off here. And as much as he knows it's _completely_ none of his business whatsoever, it frustrates him to the point that he finds himself leaving the store with more stuff than he ever intended to carry.

“Daniel.” This time he nudges the taller person’s legs with his feet, eliciting a jerk and a startled groan as he groggily wakes up. It’d be funny if it weren’t, how three expressions flash across Daniel’s face in the span of a few seconds from the moment he opens his eyes; annoyance, confusion, and shock.

“J-Jihoon—?”

“Get up. Come with me,” he says sternly, capping his words off with the pop of his opening umbrella. “Hurry up. I’m freezing.”

Daniel just frowns at him as he pushes his glasses up his nose, but it’s more out of confusion than disapproval. “W-what? I don’t—”

He silences him with a look, and no sooner does Daniel bow his head in slight shame and gets up from the bench to stand beside him. Jihoon holds up the umbrella higher to accommodate his height, tipping his head in the direction they’re headed to before he starts walking.

No one really says anything the entire way, but Jihoon can feel eyes boring into the side of his head as they tread carefully on the rain-battered sidewalk. He’s thankful for the silence though, a little glad that Daniel neither asks him anything nor does he protest in the slightest even when he’s led inside the motel. The pretty girl behind the front desk gives them a look of surprise when they enter, but Jihoon now chooses to ignore her in favor of ushering his new companion up the stairs. 

The obedient silence can only last so long, however, and the limit seems to be marked down when they finally stop in front of his room.

“J-Jihoon...I—”

The beep of the keycard accessing the lock cuts him off, and Jihoon merely gives him a flat look when he opens the door for him to enter. He’s learning that this wordless gesture is actually a much better way of getting what he wants from the strange man, proven true yet again when Daniel bows his head down and walks inside without another word.

“Leave your shoes by the door,” Jihoon says when he closes up behind him, toeing off his own before sauntering over to the kitchenette in the unit—which is really just a glorified table from Ikea with an electric thermos and a couple of dollar-store mugs perched on top of a pair of mismatched saucers.

He’s in the midst of unpacking the stuff he bought from the store when he sees Daniel walk to stand in the middle of the room, turning to face him.

"Jihoon," he says to get his attention, looking stern and standing his ground as he does. It would probably work—this whole intimidating front—since Daniel has the height and build for it, but at the moment all Jihoon really sees is a man soaked and wet in a colorful hoodie whose frown looks more like a pout than a menace.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t what?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow, turning to face him as well. “Don’t want to be here? Don’t want my help?"

Daniel blinks at him, obviously startled by the sudden ferocity in his tone. Jihoon can see him gulp, right before he shakes his head in answer.

"So you’d rather stay out in the cold and get rained on the entire night? Is that it?”

“I’m fine.” Daniel counters his words, although his voice lacks the conviction of his answer.

“Fine? Have you had a good look at yourself lately?” Jihoon scoffs, gesturing to him. He pretends he doesn’t notice the way Daniel flinches and goes on. “I drove you all the way here to prevent this exact thing from happening to you. Yet here you are looking like some lost puppy that someone tossed out of their window left to fend for himself and you have the gall to say that you’re _fine_ ? Is there anything you can do besides _lie_ through your teeth?”

The silence that follows is deafening that not even the ambient sounds around them can penetrate and banish. Daniel isn't even looking at him anymore, choosing instead to hang his head low and direct his gaze down over at his socked feet. Jihoon's crossed a line, one that he only realizes is there after he's done it.

He doesn't even know why this is riling him up so much to the point of anger. He rarely even _gets_ angry, and even though it's completely none of his business, he can feel his irritation rising when he thinks about how Daniel had looked like earlier when he saw him sleeping on the bench by the convenience store under the rain.

Jihoon sighs, scratching the top of his head before walking around him. He rummages through his belongings, pulling out the largest pieces of clothing that he owns—an oversized sweater and a pair of track pants—before handing them over to Daniel.

“There’s an extra towel inside the bathroom. Go wash up before you catch a cold,” he says after he shoves them to his chest, not waiting for a response and just walking past him again to get back to the kitchenette. Whether it’s because of what he said earlier or the evident discomfort of his wet clothes—or maybe even a combination of both—Jihoon’s glad he doesn’t have to put up with another argument when he hears the bathroom door close and the sound of water running inside a few minutes later.

He gets on to preparing dinner then, boiling some water in the kettle and taking out the two large bowls of instant ramen and some ready-to-eat dumplings from his shopping bag along with a box of Swiss Miss. The mindlessness of the task distracts him enough to turn down the tension he's feeling a few notches at least. He’s just about finished getting everything ready when he hears the lock of the bathroom door turn, with Daniel stepping out soon after.

The navy blue sweater fits him well with some room to spare, but the track pants cut off to an awkward end a few inches above his ankles. 

“I made us food,” Jihoon says, using the excuse to keep himself from staring any further. There aren’t any tables or chairs they can eat on, so he settles with bringing the bowls and mugs to a clear spot on the floor just by the foot of the bed. Daniel doesn’t join him right away, but neither does Jihoon wait for him; he’s hungry enough as it is and the smell of fresh, hot ramen is enough to have him over the edge of good manners. 

They eat quietly—or rather, as quiet as them blowing on their hot noodles and slurping on their soup can get. It’s comfortable, peaceful even, with the white noise of rain from outside and the quiet hum of the air conditioner lulling the atmosphere to a certain kind of lightness.

It makes having to break the bubble that much harder to do, and the idea of just ignoring the elephant in the room and avoiding the matter entirely feels like a much better alternative with every passing second. As tempted as he is to actually go through with that idea though, Jihoon doesn't really want to add any more to the growing list of problems he's actively neglecting and pushes on to doing something about it. He's roughly halfway through his meal when he promptly puts his bowl and chopsticks down and clears his throat to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

It comes out abrupt and sounding way too out of the blue that for a moment, his words seem to float in the air passively with no direction or acknowledgment whatsoever. He doesn’t face the other person in the room so he can’t really be sure of the response he’s getting, but he continues anyway; with his eyes staying trained on the wall in front of them.

“About what I said earlier...that wasn’t very fair of me. I had no right to go off and judge you like that. I’m sorry.”

He hears the silence that comes when Daniel stops eating as well, sees from the periphery of his vision how he puts his bowl down in the same fashion. The pause stretches, growing in weight as the seconds tick by with nothingness. And just when Jihoon is beginning to think that he’s not going to get anything from the other man, his voice comes out soft and weak in a question.

“Why?” He asks, uncertainty lacing his tone. "Why are you doing this? Helping me?"

"Would you rather I didn't?" Jihoon snaps back, almost immediately biting his lip in regret. He hates how his first reaction is always erring on the side of defensive sarcasm.

“That’s not what I meant,” Daniel says slowly, only slightly fazed by his reproach. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, really. I’m just...a little confused as to why.” He looks down at his hands, to where his fingers fidget over the loose strings of the waistband of his pants. “You don’t even know me...and yet you picked me off from the road, let me into your motel room, and even gave me your clothes to wear. For all you know I could be a thief...or worse.”

Despite the tension in the atmosphere and the gravity of his tone—or maybe it’s actually in spite of it—Jihoon doesn’t hold back on the chuckle he feels bubbling over his chest, earning him a wary look from his four-eyed guest.

“Are you saying that you could actually be a murderer?” He says with a light laugh, not missing the slight pinking of the other man’s ears. “Not to be rude but, you don’t exactly give off the killer kind of vibe.”

“There are no stereotypes to killers you know,” Daniel says matter-of-factly, and Jihoon can’t be sure, but is that a pout he’s seeing? “You shouldn’t be so reckless, even if you mean well.”

Jihoon just chuckles again, shrugging his sentiment. “Like I said, regardless of stereotypes, you don’t really come off to me as...harmful _._ And even if let’s say, you are in fact, _a killer_ —” He emphasizes the last words with air quotes, matching the mischievous smirk he has on. “—it doesn’t bother me. I’m not afraid of dying.”

He meant that in lightness, a half-hearted joke if you will, to keep the air around them a little less tense than what they started off with. It seems to deliver the opposite effect on Daniel though, when all he does in response is that habit of worrying his lip down and sinking his eyes to a low point. 

“That...doesn’t really answer my question though,” he says to his slightly clenched hands, his voice careful and weak when he repeats, “Why are you helping me?”

Jihoon regards him at that, tilting his head a little to the side and finally putting the question into proper light. Why _is_ he helping him? Because by all accounts, Daniel does make a valid point. They don’t know each other and in fact, are complete, total strangers. It brings up the similar feeling from earlier of why he’d felt so angry when he saw him sleeping on the bench outside. It doesn’t really make any sense if he thinks about it—but perhaps it’s the sole fact that it _doesn’t_ is what makes it all the more clear.

He picks up his bowl of ramen again, slurping another mouthful of noodles before he answers.

“You looked like you needed help,” he says flatly, his face just as expressionless. “You look like you still do, to be honest. And I'm not really one to be stingy if I can do something about it. God knows we need more kindness in this world." His slurps the last of his ramen, tipping his head back as he finishes his soup in a show of nonchalance.

He can feel Daniel’s eyes on him, but when he looks up to meet his gaze, the other man flinches and looks down and away. He goes back to eating his food, the quiet sips he makes filling the void around the room. The moment he speaks again comes a little later, when all that’s left are their steaming mugs of hot chocolate and empty food containers stacked in the space between them.

“I didn’t go to the bus terminal earlier like I said I would because...well, I couldn’t,” Daniel suddenly says, talking in the same way Jihoon did earlier by directing his attention to the wall in front of them instead of to him. “Mainly it’s because I don’t really have that much money on me, and buying a bus ticket isn’t an option I can afford at the moment. But...more importantly, I guess—”

A pause, his hitched breath marking an abrupt stop to his words. Despite himself, Jihoon turns his head a little, watching how Daniel opens and closes his mouth a few times in trying to form something with an obvious feat. The quietness goes on for an entire minute before he finds what to say, and even then the words come out in partial vagueness that Jihoon was already half-expecting.

“I don’t really have anywhere to go. I’m...I’m still trying to figure things out.”

The honesty in that statement is what ultimately catches Jihoon off guard, so much that he finds himself blatantly staring at the man again. Not with wonder or curiosity for his strangeness like in the numerous times he did in the past twenty-four hours, but in observance of the little details that he can very well relate to himself. Daniel’s expression and demeanor; the subtle dark circles under his eyes behind his round glasses; the tight line of his lips that seem to have been drawn in permanence.

Jihoon doesn’t ask much more than what he’s given, and just nods his head once before taking a sip of his drink. If he ever harbored any doubt or hesitation in bringing Daniel here, he doesn’t feel a single ounce of it now.

“We should get some sleep. It’s been a long day,” Jihoon says, starting to get up from the carpeted floor and taking their food debris to the kitchenette table. He's followed by Daniel, who merely gives him a wide-eyed look of confusion. 

"What? You didn't think I'd let you borrow my clothes just to let you out into the rain again, did you?" He walks over to the only bed in the room, pulling out the covers and one of the two pillows lined over the headrest before handing it to Daniel. "I don't mind sharing the bed, but I figure that you probably would. But at least the carpet is better than sleeping outside on that bench right?"

Jihoon doesn’t wait for a response and just walks to switch the main lights off, bathing the room in dim darkness with only the golden glow of the bedside lamp to illuminate them. He hops up on the bed, his body immediately sinking and relaxing on the mattress that makes him feel like it won’t be long until sleep takes him. 

The effect must show on his face and on every physical plain of his body because instead of arguing like he anticipated, he instead sees the imperceptible nod Daniel makes before he walks to the foot of the bed where he lays out his bedding; settling down, wrapping the blanket over himself before he drops to the floor until only his head is in view.

“Jihoon?”

“Hm?” He mumbles out, the edges of his mind already starting to slip to unconsciousness. His eyelids feel heavier by the second, and he almost misses the last words out of Daniel’s mouth before he succumbs to the darkness.

“Thank you.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The following morning is awkward.

For starters, Jihoon—having slept in a bed for the first time in a while—oversleeps and only ever wakes up in the last few minutes right before noon breaks. He finds himself in that cathartic state where he’s feeling well-rested and yet unable to draw himself away and leave the comforts of his bed; stretching and rolling around the mattress and relishing its softness. It’s only when he does get up that he feels the silliness of the act because he completely forgets about the presence of another body in the room with him. 

He almost yelps— _almost—_ when he sees Daniel on the floor sprawled and messy and tangled in his covers and long limbs. It probably wouldn't turn out so awkward if he had the presence of mind to stop himself from staring, but alas his morning brain is only capable of so much. A fact he regrets when he catches the exact moment Daniel’s eyes open and their gazes meet, triggering a flurry of confusion, fluster, and hasty good mornings in rough-spun voices.

He’s got to admit though, it’s quite a sight to see the tall man with his copper-brown hair sticking up all over his head with his face schooled in an expression that only rightfully belongs to a grumpy puppy. He supposes he’s not the only one who’s had a good night’s rest.

The weather has finally let up too, so much that the only indication Jihoon sees that it even rained so hard the previous day is the dried water spots on the surface of his pickup when they exit out of the motel and the last few puddles that have yet to dry on the sidewalk. The air is crisp and just slightly warm, breezy to match the blue skies.

“I’m going over to the laundromat to wash a few clothes. You should come, we can wash your wet ones too,” Jihoon says, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and tipping his head in the direction of where he remembers he saw the establishment yesterday. He chuckles when all Daniel does is nod and squint at the brightness, obviously still feeling a little groggy.

There’s only one other person inside the laundromat when they get there—an old lady who looks like she’s just about done with her load and is packing up herself. It’s not that unusual considering the time of day, but Jihoon appreciates the convenience and quietness regardless.

When all his clothes, along with Daniel’s colorful hoodie ensemble, are loaded and running inside a washing machine, he turns to face his companion to see him looking properly awake now—the same anxious expression he always has on marking his face.

“I have a few things I need to buy around town. Gotta stock up on some supplies. Do you wanna grab a bite to eat first?” Jihoon asks him, jerking his thumb to the door. He knows the answer he’s going to get even before he’s asked that though, so he’s not entirely surprised when Daniel shakes his head at him.

“I’m okay, you go ahead. I can watch the laundry ‘til you get back.”

Jihoon’s about to quip out a sarcastic remark about how watching the laundry will probably just rot his brains out but he bites his tongue, knowing by now how being forceful about things is not the best way to get Daniel to loosen up.

“Alright. I’ll try not to take too long. I’ll see you later,” he says instead, nodding as he takes a few steps back towards the door. 

Later turns out to be an incredibly long hour and a half later, much to his annoyance. For a small town like this, the line he had to queue over at the only general supermarket in the vicinity has made him question his life choices and whether or not he even really needs the two econo-packs of instant ramen and frozen dumplings he has in his small basket. If he didn't know for a fact that he wouldn’t be stopping over at another town for at least another week or two, he'd have left the line in a heartbeat.

And that was only the supermarket. He doesn't even want to revisit the chaos that was McDonald's.

"Hey." Comes his grumpy greeting when he re-enters the laundromat a good three hours later. It's still empty (thankfully), save for Daniel who's still on the seat where he left him. There's a pile of neatly folded clothes beside him, and he's also back to wearing his bright turquoise and yellow hoodie.

"Hey," he says back with one corner of his mouth pulling up in a slight smile. "I washed the clothes you lent me last night. Everything's here."

It just occurs to Jihoon then that besides the flannels, jeans and sweaters that are on the neat pile, among them are also his socks and underwear. Daniel notices him staring at the garments, which immediately brings a tinge of pink to rush up his neck and ears.

"Thanks," Jihoon cuts him off before he even gets the chance to open his mouth, holding up the brown takeout bag in front of him. "I, umm—got us these."

He takes the seat opposite of him, placing the bag on his lap before taking out the two Big Macs he so painstakingly went through the trouble of getting and handing one to Daniel. He pulls out their fries and drinks next, not waiting a second more before putting one in his mouth 

"Jihoon—"

"I already bought it Daniel. Don't waste it and just eat up," he says, right as he chomps down on his burger. It takes a few more seconds of hesitation but he eventually relents, peeling off his own wrapper and starting on his meal.

The silence that comes while they eat together like this is surprisingly what Jihoon needs after his rather hectic shopping spree. Daniel's presence is strangely calming—cathartic even—in a sense that he's there but not really. They don't even talk, and the only kind of communication that occurs is limited to passing gazes and blinks that it takes Jihoon a while to realize what it is exactly that makes this moment so serene.

He hasn’t shared a single meal with anyone in a long time, hasn’t spent a quiet moment like this with another person since the day he packed up and left the city in his truck. Sure he’s had one-night stands and hookups along the way, but Jihoon wouldn’t exactly describe any of those moments as peaceful.

He rides on this small epiphany, the thought swirling around in his head even way after they finish their food and start packing up to leave the laundromat. They head back to where his pickup is still parked down by the motel, and Jihoon’s loading up the stuff he bought along with his freshly laundered clothes when he feels a soft tap from behind his shoulder—an insufficient gesture that doesn’t prepare him in the slightest when he turns around to look.

Daniel has his head slightly bowed, with both his hands raised and holding up a few wads of bills between his thumb and index fingers. At his height, Jihoon can clearly see how he also has his eyes closed and his lips bitten down; a habit he’s no stranger to by now.

“I know this doesn’t even cover half of what you spent for me,” Daniel starts, his voice surprisingly solid with conviction. “But it’s really all I have right now. I...want you to take it—as thanks...for everything.”

Jihoon just stares back at him, a slight dip forming on his brows as his eyes dart from the cash and to the person handing it to him. He lets out an audible sigh, placing his hand above Daniel’s and gently lowering it down.

“You don’t have to pay me back. I helped you because I wanted to, not because I was expecting you to repay me.”

But Daniel just shakes his head, incessant. “It’s not about repaying you. I just...want to lessen the burden I’ve caused.”

Jihoon snorts, following the motion and shaking his head in return. “You helped me do my laundry, and even folded my clothes when I would normally just chuck them inside my bag straight from the dryer. You’re hardly a burden.”

It doesn’t give the desired effect he’s aiming for, when Daniel still keeps his head bowed and his fingers tense over the money he’s holding. He shakes his head again, in a combined expression of refusal, disbelief, and shame. 

"Please," he says more like a plea now, the singular word cutting a vein in Jihoon's chest.

"What about you, then?" He asks him, trying his best not to sound too cold. "What will you do if I take this? Where will you go?"

Daniel lets his upper lip free from his bite if only to pull one side of his mouth up in a humorless smile. "That's my problem. It's not for you to worry about, Jihoon."

It comes out a little harsh, but Daniel’s right yet again. Whatever happens to him isn't and _shouldn't_ be any of Jihoon’s concern at this point. And just as he’s told himself numerous times since meeting this colorful stranger, he should just turn the other cheek and walk away because whatever issue Daniel is obviously carrying over his shoulders is completely none of his business. The extent of the help he’s provided should’ve ended the moment he gave him a ride here out of the rain, and the fact that he did more than that afterwards should be more than enough.

But as much as that is strongly the case, he finds himself not caring about what he should and shouldn’t be concerned with. Jihoon’s already past the blanket of worry the moment he took him in last night, and everything he does now in following can’t possibly add up any more than it’s already piled up to.

He looks down at his hand, down where it’s encasing Daniel’s against his palm and fingers. The realization he had earlier still lingers on the edges of his mind, of that self-epiphany of just how much and long it’s been since he’s deprived himself of human company. And maybe it’s stupid for him to be thinking about it in a time like this, but he doesn’t think he minds the next words out of his mouth.

“Come with me then,” he says, completely unfiltered and impulsive. Daniel, for the first time, looks up—his eyes widening in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Jihoon still hasn’t let go of his hand, and he can feel it tensing up in his own as his words begin to sink in.

“W-what?” Daniel mutters, seemingly frozen in his question. Jihoon just shrugs.

“I don’t really know anything about you other than what you told me, but I can say that I’m probably on the same boat as you,” he says, in feigned casualness that he hopes isn’t too obvious. “I’m also still figuring things out for myself and in the meantime, I’m not really heading towards anywhere in particular. I just go wherever the road takes me and try to live one day at a time...and if that’s something you’re down with, then you’re more than welcome to tag along.”

With the offer he’s laying on the table, Jihoon is more than ready and is even completely expecting to hear what he thinks Daniel would say in refusal. It’s his turn to be on the end of surprise, however, when the tall brunette does nothing of the sort; his eyes merely glancing over to his pickup and then back to him again in a not-so-inconspicuous look of contemplation.

“I don’t have any money,” Daniel states in fact, the corners of his mouth pulled taut in shame. ”I’ll only add on to your expenses.”

“I know.” Jihoon nods, the small wad of cash between them feeling as light as ever. “But I wouldn’t be offering if I minded that little detail, now would I?”

Daniel swallows— _gulps_ to be more precise—and draws his eyes to the vehicle again. As curious as Jihoon is to know what he’s thinking, he doesn’t press him with anything and just keeps his passive stance. He can feel the weird stares that a few passerbys throws at them, but he pays them no mind. When Daniel speaks again, he’s thrown in another unexpected curve that this time has him smiling.

“If I say yes...will you take the money?”

He might be a little unsubtle in his joy for his small victory, but as similar as he doesn’t mind the stares they’re getting, Jihoon doesn’t hold back on the grin that forms on his face when he pulls his hand back from Daniel’s—taking the cash with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also just want to say that this story heavily /heavily/ draws inspiration from some amazing songs I've been listening to while writing this. I don't usually share my fic playlists this early but for this story, I think I've relied a lot on the songs in [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Z7LrZ50cnuAAIRNp5O1Wn?si=9nw-fzFnSJS29HAUoDlmVg) in the course of writing this :)


	2. The Game of Dodgeball

Jihoon turns the dial that lights up the small, portable gas stove he carries with him on his truck, the ignited flame adding to the light provided by the electric lamp sitting beside him. He puts his copper pot on top, filling it with water before haphazardly putting the lid on. He’s just a short step away from feeling famished, being that the last meal he had was the burger he ordered for takeout from the last town they were at which he’d already completely digested a good five hours ago.

He and Daniel have been driving aimlessly all day with the only stops being the staggered couple of pee-breaks they took throughout the entire ride. It’s been a relatively long afternoon, and now the sun has all but set below the horizon to make way for a blanket of stars. They’re sitting back on the cargo bed of the truck and parked along a clearing on the tree-lined field away from the road, waiting for the water to boil so they can cook their ramen.

“Do you want spicy or original?” Jihoon asks, his deep voice piercing the quiet air in warm trebles. If he were to count—which he definitely hasn’t been doing because that would be  _ weird _ —this question now marks up to be the fourth thing either of them have said to each other since they left town earlier; the other three embarrassingly being  _ ‘do you need to pee?’, ‘I got to pee’,  _ and  _ ‘done?’ _

Not that Jihoon minds of course. He’s not much of a talker himself even before, and the introvert in him is still thankful and elated to know that even after half a day’s worth of driving, having Daniel as a companion doesn’t really present much of a huge change in the dynamic of how things are going for him. At best, the largest difference is merely the vibe the other person carries; of being there but not really; a calming yet invisible presence in his otherwise lonely lifestyle. Jihoon isn’t really expecting much, but he definitely didn’t foresee that the only forms of interaction he’d be getting when he invited another person on this trip would be short, curt nods and soft hums of assent.

“I’ll take the spicy one,” Daniel says in answer, and Jihoon swears he’s almost even forgotten what his voice sounded like. 

He gets on with making their measly dinner, taking the two packs of spicy ramen and throwing in a few thawed dumplings to the small stew. He throws in another when he glances Daniel’s way and sizes him up, thinking that a big guy like him must eat quite a lot and that it’d take nothing short of a miracle for him to ask for it himself. He nods inwardly at the thought, throwing in another dumpling for good measure.

“So. Daniel,” Jihoon starts to say as he begins to put in the noodles, casually grabbing a pair of chopsticks lest he be too obvious in his attempt at striking conversation. “I suppose I should lay out some ground rules for you since you’re riding along with me now.”

He only realizes how rigid his words sounded when he sees Daniel blanch a little even with the warm lights illuminating his face. So much for casual and welcoming. Jihoon clears his throat then, making the effort to summon a more friendlier persona.

“It’s nothing major. Just a few things to put out there so that we have a better understanding of one another.” His lips go up in a tight smile, hoping it exudes a better image out of him as he drives straight to the point. “So, the first thing I want to talk about is—well, generally the matter of you being here. I just want it to be clear that I'm not forcing you to stay with me in any way, alright? I invited you to come along, you said yes. So if there ever comes a time when you want to go and part ways, then you don’t have to worry about me stopping you.”

Daniel’s face at least softens a bit on that statement, although he still averts his gaze when he acknowledges with a nod. It’s the best he’s going to get for now, he thinks.

“So having said that, the second thing I wanna be clear about is basically how things work when you’re living with me.” Jihoon gestures around to their guerilla-style setup, tipping his chin over to the food he’s cooking as he continues. "This. Being out here, eating processed food, stopping in the middle of the road from time to time to take a potty break—you need to know that this is pretty much the way I live ninety-percent of the time. I know it’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, and I don't expect you to see it that way by any means. But I'd appreciate it if we could hold off on complaining about a few things if we can help it."

That gets him a fresh reaction he isn’t expecting, when Daniel suddenly looks up in startled apprehension. "S-sorry. Was I—?" He bites his lip, hesitant and shy. "Did I do something wrong?"

Jihoon mentally smacks himself in the head for being so brash again, shaking his head in an apologetic take back. "No! No of course not. You've actually been very cool about everything the entire afternoon," he says, hoping that it's enough for damage control. "I just meant that as...something to keep in mind, umm—in moving forward. And that if there's anything that you're really uncomfortable about, you should feel free to tell me. I'll try to be as accommodating as I can."

The small breath of relief Daniel lets out is a comfort in itself for him to reflect back the same gesture. Jihoon’s starting to get a vague sense that talking to Daniel is a little bit like playing a game of dodgeball, only that the rules are reversed and that he has to aim  _ not _ to hit the other person when he throws.

“Now, as for the last thing I want to mention—as far as enforcement goes, this is probably the only hard rule that I want you to follow.” Jihoon grabs a pair of chopsticks when he says that, preoccupying himself with their meal and ignoring the slight dip in Daniel’s expression. “You said you don’t have any money with you, right?”

He looks up just in time as he’s grabbing the seasoning packets to see Daniel biting down his lower lip, shaking his head weakly. Jihoon just nods at his point.

“Right. So to put it simply, I’m essentially going to be the one spending for our needs from here on out,” he continues in frankness, stirring the pot as he does. “I still stand by what I told you before we left town earlier, that this is all on me. So at any given point, I don’t want you to feel like you have to repay me or whatever, alright? When I buy things, I don’t want to hear you declining just because I’m the only one paying. Basically I don’t want money to be an issue, so let’s not make it one, okay?”

He turns off the flame to finish his words, grabs one of the disposable aluminium bowls from his stash before dividing the ramen for two and handing over one to Daniel. It’s only as he does that he sees the marred look of hesitation on his face, an obvious contemplation from over what he just said. Jihoon puts in an understanding front because at the very least, he knows that this last rule is a little bigger to swallow than the rest. His patience doesn’t wane though, and he’s rewarded when Daniel eventually nods and takes the bowl he’s offering.

“Speaking of which,” Jihoon says after going for his first slurp of ramen, closely followed by a satisfied ‘ _ ah’  _ when the warm soup finally hits his empty stomach. “We’re probably going to have to stop at the next town we pass over. I didn’t buy enough supplies for two when I went shopping earlier, and I assume this’ll run out pretty fast if we eat this much every night.”

He slurps another mouthful, only barely missing the way Daniel suddenly hesitates with his meal and giving it a hard once-over.

“You didn’t have to give me so much,” he says, pursing his lips and pointing to the extra dumplings. “You should have these. I’m not really a big eater anyway.”

Jihoon’s about the refuse him, but Daniel beats him to it and passes two of the extra dumplings he placed earlier into his own bowl. 

“Daniel—”

“I really don’t eat a lot, Jihoon,” he counters, already knowing what he’s about to say. “It’s a waste on me. It’s okay.”

Jihoon doesn’t know if he believes that, but the sight of all the dumplings in his bowl now is something that kills his willpower to argue any further. He pops one in his mouth, deciding to just let this one slide. 

For a while only the sounds of their quiet slurping of ramen noodles and the rustling of leaves permeate the evening air, blanketing the atmosphere with an ambience of steady peacefulness. As much as Jihoon loves this silent serenity, he’s made to break it halfway through eating when he notices Daniel’s rather obvious glances towards him; eyes occasionally coming up and back down again whenever he gets caught staring.

“If you have something to say, you can just say it you know.” Jihoon tells him, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I don’t bite...usually.”

That earns him a soup-induced coughing spiel as well as a reddening face that doesn’t look to be caused by the spiciness of their food alone. Jihoon just chuckles at him, tipping his bowl up his mouth and waiting for Daniel to calm down before raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

Daniel visibly gulps, as if the act itself serves to boost his courage. “I was just, umm—just wondering…”

“Wondering.” Jihoon repeats when he pauses, slightly amused in watching him stumble through his words.

“I wanted to ask...umm, what you’re doing out here,” Daniel finally spits out, his fingers fidgeting on his chopsticks. “Do you really just drive around...not going anywhere? Or is there somewhere you’re headed to?”

Jihoon supposes that it's a pretty standard thing to ask. After all, if he looks at it from Daniel's shoes, he's been sitting in a car for pretty much the entire day with only a slightly-acquainted stranger and having absolutely no clue as to where he’s being driven to. Probably the most surprising thing about this is that it took him this long to ask it out loud.

"I meant what I said before, that I’m not really going anywhere in particular," Jihoon answers, a semi-forced kind of casualness lacing his tone. "So yeah, I pretty much just  _ do _ drive around. I don’t really think about where I’m going as opposed to having a destination in mind."

"But why do you stay out here on the road?" Daniel follows up, a genuine inquisitiveness about him. "Why don’t you stay in motels, like from the previous town?"

Jihoon tilts his head to the side and leans a little until his back is resting on the rim of the flatbed, his face pensive when he answers. "I guess it's more of a preference than anything. I actually don't go to towns or pit-stops unless I absolutely need to, and even then I don't always stay in to pass the night." He nods, tipping his head a little to pull in a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs. "I like being out here. It's...peaceful."

And as if the trees and the spirits of nature around them could hear, a soft, cool breeze aptly blows in their direction to kiss the tops of their hair and rustle the natural chimes of the leaves above them. Daniel is silent after that, his nod marking the end of his curiosity before he goes back to eating. 

“Can I get a turn at asking questions?” Jihoon says after a while, when only a few broken noodles and a small puddle of soup is left in his bowl. He swears he almost physically feels Daniel’s trepidation when it shoots up and bleeds all over his body language, so he’s a little surprised when he still gets a shy, reluctant nod.

“What were you  _ really  _ doing on that bridge when I found you? Back when my truck broke down.” Jihoon just goes straight for it, his own curiosity getting the better of him. He realizes his mistake too late again when he sees the apprehension in Daniel’s features spike up another notch. Even in the limited light he can see how tight his fists are clenched and how white his knuckles have become. Daniel isn’t even looking at him, his gaze trained on his own empty ramen bowl.

“C-can I pass on that? I don’t—” His voice cracks and cuts his words short, and that’s enough for Jihoon to get the hint that this line of conversation isn’t something he’s allowed to tread yet.

“Alright, umm—” Jihoon tries to think of something to steer the topic away, not wanting for his new companion to hide behind his walls again. In his mental haste that’s just slightly frantic for a solution, he blurts out the first thing his mind latches on to when his eyes glance over to Daniel’s body.

“What’s up with your clothes?” 

The question takes a couple of seconds to fully sink in but when it does, the effect is immediate. It’s so out of the blue and so unexpected that it even gets Daniel to look up and replace some of the anxiety seeping off of him with startled confusion. 

“...my clothes?” He repeats, blinking in confoundment. He looks down at the hoodie in question, eyes trying to look for something wrong.

"Yeah. Don’t you think that it’s a bit—I don’t know. Too colorful, or loud?"

The expression that Daniel gives off when he hears that clearly shows that no, he probably doesn't see it that way nor has he ever even considered the case in the first place. “I like this hoodie. It’s...comfy,” he answers, shrugging a little with his lips pursed in a tight line. “Does it really look that bad?”

Feeling his own cheeks warming up, Jihoon raises and flails both his hands in front of him in an attempt to tamper down his words. “N-no! That’s not what I meant. It’s not that it doesn’t look good on you—because it does and so do you! But—” He bites his tongue, eyes circling like dinner plates. “I mean—umm...“

Maybe it’s a good thing that their conversation has taken a rather strange and unprecedented turn because Jihoon sees one corner of Daniel’s lips turning up to form a small smile despite his rather surprised appearance. It gets his own lips to mimic the expression, and soon he’s chuckling in airy gusts and looking away with a heated flush lingering on the tips of his ears.

It leaves the air light and uncoiled between them, all in all making their first dinner together a good one. The crescent moon is high in the sky by the time they’ve cleared out their food and cleaned up the back of the truck to settle in for the night, where Jihoon sits on the driver’s seat with the backrest reclined while Daniel takes up the space immediately behind him.

“You okay back back there?” Jihoon asks, eyes going over to the rearview mirror to see how his companion is sprawled on the backseat with his head on one end and his folded legs over on the other. It looks way too uncomfortable for a person of Daniel’s size.

“Yeah. I’m good,” comes the expected answer. As much as Jihoon wants to tell him that he can just sleep on the passenger’s seat or even over on the flatbed where he'd be more comfortable, Daniel is still, at best, a stranger to him. The level of trust he has for the guy doesn’t warrant him to sleep peacefully if he’s sleeping as freely as him so the backseat—having no immediate access to the car doors without disturbing the front space—is the best way to ensure that.

“Okay. Umm, goodnight then." It comes out awkward and just a little forced, but it's the best he can go for right now seeing as he's not exactly the best himself with interpersonal exchanges. Another good thing he's learning about Daniel is that he doesn't really need to say much anyway, proven when he gets a soft 'goodnight' back before the sounds of rustling and shifting mark the start of slumber.

Or so Jihoon thinks. It hasn't even been five minutes since he's closed his eyes when he hears a low and audible grumble coming from behind him; a tight churning sound that's unmistakably coming from another person's stomach.

He can literally feel the air go still at the sudden ceasement of breath, which he chooses to ignore mostly to be polite. But it doesn't stop there, and the churning roil of an empty stomach resounds not even thirty seconds later and louder than the one before it. 

Jihoon blinks his eyes open at that and leans up a little, reaching over to the glove compartment with one hand and messily pilfering through the contents. He lets out an involuntary sigh when his fingers finally grab on to something long and smooth, pulling it out without checking and tossing it over his back for it to land in a dull thump presumably on Daniel’s body.

"Eat," is all he says, closing his eyes again as he settles back on his seat. He's half-expecting a rebuttal, but the tone of his voice must prove to be enough of a deterrent when a few seconds later, he starts to hear the sound of a candy wrapper tearing and the faint, chocolate smell of a Snickers bar wafting along his proximity. Daniel eats quietly, and Jihoon is already fast asleep by the time he's done to mutter a small thank you.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It’s a day later and just a little past noon when they start pulling over at a gas station complex they happen to pass by right along the side of the highway. Sighting the place a few kilometers ago couldn’t have come at a much better time because the food supplies that Jihoon had bought over from the last town have all but diminished to empty packets and containers after they finished eating brunch this morning. Despite Daniel’s insistence that he doesn’t eat a lot, the past twenty-four hours they spent together is enough for Jihoon to know that he’s just bluffing out of politeness. 

“We’ll stop by the mini-mart to stock up on some food first. There are still a couple of things we need to shop for afterwards, but let’s cross off groceries before we do anything else,” Jihoon says as he pulls the hand brake to park after they’ve arrived, unbuckling himself and stepping out of the truck in the next second. He stretches out of his limbs the three hour’s worth of the drive since their last stop from this morning before he beckons for Daniel to follow him to where the small cluster of shops are arranged over on the far-end of the gas station. 

The sole mini-mart in the area is empty save for the middle-aged lady behind the counter who pays them both no mind as she continues to read from the pocket book she’s holding. It’s cold and crisp in here as compared to the pre-autumnal air beyond the doors that it feels more like they’ve stepped inside a glorified refrigerator than a grocery store.

“I’ll go grab some food and essentials,” Jihoon says as he picks up a shopping basket, tipping his chin over to the shopping aisles. “You should go around too. If you find anything you want like snacks or whatever, just grab some okay?”

He can feel the hesitation even before it forms into something visible on Daniel’s features when he makes a nod, and Jihoon can probably bet everything he owns that he won’t be taking up his offer even if it looks like he’s in agreement. He doesn’t press him though and just goes off on his own to start shopping.

It’s pretty straightforward doing groceries on a small shop like this, and his basket is about three-quarters of the way full with four different types of instant ramen, canned soup, and frozen luncheons by the time he spots Daniel again as he turns to one of the aisles. It’s the most vibrant section of the entire mini-mart, with shelves and hooks lined with colorful packets of assorted candies, chocolates, and a multitude of other sugary treats. Daniel doesn't seem to notice him yet so Jihoon takes advantage of the window to watch his companion undisturbed. It’s a slightly endearing sight to behold, with Daniel being in his colorful getup and currently staring down at a pack of gummy bears looking like a shy kid in a candy store.

“You find anything you want?” Jihoon walks over before he can start feeling like a total creep, his eyes following the gummy bear trail as Daniel jumps a little in surprise.

“Oh, umm—no. I’m good.”

“You sure?” He pretends that he doesn’t see Daniel’s eyes flitting over back to the candy when he asks, keeping his face neutral save for his raised eyebrow. He’s already told him not to make an issue of this and that he can take whatever it is that he wanted. He doesn’t want to have to repeat himself.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Daniel nods decidedly, pointing to his basket. “You already bought a lot.”

Jihoon bites down the frustrated sigh that wants to escape out of him and just lets out a cross between a nod and a shrug. They go to the counter to pay without further debacle, where Daniel is quick to grab all the stuff in his arms like a proper boy scout after the lady bags it for them. Jihoon tries not to look too disapproving of this and just bites the inside of his cheek as he swipes his card at the terminal, keeping himself from saying anything too sarcastic.

“Let’s load these back in the truck first then head to the strip mall. I think I saw a camping equipment store when we passed by earlier. Hopefully they sell clothes there.”

Daniel just nods at him and follows his tail in walking back to the truck, hugging the brown grocery bags close to him. “You need to buy clothes?”

“For you, yes.”

That gives him a pause, and Daniel is then quick to match his footsteps so he’s walking along beside him. “W-what? Why? My clothes are fine, and you said you didn’t mind me wearing this hoodie and—”

“It’s not because of that.” Jihoon shakes his head, chuckling a little at the reference as he presses the button on his car keys to disarm the lock. “I only have enough clothes with me to last week, and half of which probably won’t even fit you. And it’s not like we pass by a laundromat everyday for us to share.”

“But—” He’s cut off when Jihoon opens the door and starts taking the bags from him, loading them on the backseat of the truck. “Jihoon, you don’t have to. I can just wait when we  _ do  _ pass by a laundry shop. I can wear my clothes until then, it’s fine. You don’t need to buy—”

“What did I say about making money an issue?” Jihoon rounds on him with a stern voice, the frustration he felt earlier bubbling over as he tries to school his face into its natural, passive frown. Daniel flinches at the sudden coldness, his gaze dropping on the concrete.

“I just...feel bad,” he starts to say, small and hesitant. “It’s already too much for me to see you spending so much on food...I don’t want to add anything unnecessary to the list.”

Jihoon sighs then, taking the last bag of groceries from Daniel’s arms before stuffing them inside and closing the door with conviction. He’s expected this, he’s not gonna lie, but it’s still mildly annoying regardless.

“Clothes are also a necessity Daniel. You’ll be sleeping outdoors and I’m not going to let you endure the whole trip with only one pair of pants and a hoodie.” Jihoon locks the car again, the beeping sound serving a punctuation to his words. “And besides, even if I were to lend you mine, I’m not too keen on us sharing underwear so buying you a few is a no-brainer. Now c’mon.”

He turns around and starts walking the other way towards the strip mall, not waiting for a response. And Jihoon takes this opportunity of having his back to him to crack open his walls a little to let out the sneaky smile that flies up his face. There’s no hiding the obvious blush that suddenly rushed up to Daniel’s ears over the last thing he said.

Despite the lightness he’s tried to impart though, Daniel is still visibly stiff and reluctant when the door dings at their entry to the camping supplies shop. His head is down and his shoulders are tucked in over himself in a measly attempt to make himself smaller—putting it into debate whether it’s even a possible feat in his broad frame. Jihoon tries to ignore this sudden droop and just focuses on the task at hand, eyes scanning the entirety of the medium-sized shop.

There are a few people here in contrast to the emptiness of the mini-mart earlier, but it’s generally still a slow day for everyone involved which Jihoon is silently thankful for. He easily spots the rack of clothes over on the other end of the store past the camping tent displays and makes a beeline for it with Daniel in tow; the overwhelming feeling of being a mom and dragging his kid to the department store to buy clothes becoming increasingly amplified when all they do is stare at the displays when they get there.

“Daniel.” He calls his attention, snapping him out of whatever cloud he’s currently looming on inside his head. “I’m the one buying, but you’re going to have to choose what to get so go on.”

“R-right.” He gives him a stiff nod, taking a visible gulp before stepping forward to pilfer through the selection. It’s awkward, standing and watching in wait like this, so Jihoon jerks his thumb back in pointing to the rest of the store.

“I’ll walk around and see if I need to buy anything myself. Just come find me when you’re done, okay?” He says, nodding to the task. Daniel looks as if he’s about to protest but the chance for him to do so flies out when Jihoon starts walking away.

He doesn’t completely ignore him though, and he’d be lying if he said that his eyes don’t occasionally flit back over to watch what he’s doing every now and then. It’s all smooth for the most part, but it’s not even five minutes later and a few shopping aisles over when Jihoon feels the need to walk back to him again. Even from his current distance, he can tell the abrupt shift in Daniel’s demeanor when he spots one of the retail staff approaching him.

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” Jihoon hears the young woman say as he gets closer, not missing the indecipherable stutter Daniel makes in response. Frankly speaking, he’s still feeling a little annoyed at his behavior and would probably roll his eyes at that very moment if it weren’t for the fact that a loud, metallic clatter suddenly blares through the entire shop as Daniel knocks over the entire clothing rack behind him.

“Shit. S-sorry! I-I didn’t—”

The sigh the female staff lets out and the speed of which her smile drops is enough of a cue to know just how troublesome this is for her as she starts to bend down and fix Daniel’s mess. People are starting to look and all he’s doing is shrinking even further over his hunched shoulders.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Jihoon says when he finally gets to the scene, bending down himself and shamelessly putting out the kind of smile he  _ knows _ how to use as he picks up a few clothes. And sure enough, the flustered effect it has on the staff hits home.

“Ah, it’s okay sir. It’s no trouble—”

“No, it’s fine.” He smiles even more, dazzling and warm. “Sorry about him. He can be a little clumsy sometimes,” he says, tilting his head a little in Daniel’s direction and earning him a look of slight surprise.

“Oh. Is he your friend?”

“Mhmm. We were just going to pick off some clothes since we have a long drive ahead of us. Sorry for causing trouble like this.” 

His intentional use of charm works and thankfully the lady seems less annoyed now to at least wave a hand in dismissal and smile in return. “Oh, it’s really no biggie. Accidents happen, right?”

Jihoon just forces out a natural chuckle and hands the staff some of the fallen items, not missing the subtle pinking of her cheeks when their fingers brush. He’s quick to move from there once he gets up, grabbing whatever decent-looking shirt and pants his eyes land on, a large parka, and a few rolled packs of underwear before striding over to the counter to settle the bill. He says another quick apology to the staff before heading out without another backward glance, the quiet footsteps following behind him being enough to keep him moving forward.

“J-Jihoon, wait—”

They’re just a couple of steps away from the truck when he turns around sharply, fully prepared to lash out and let loose the steam that’s been building up in his system since the moment they got here. His fists are already clenched over the shopping bags he’s holding, gaze cold like steel, and he can literally feel the words itching to get out of his mouth—only for it to dissipate in the next second over what he sees before him.

There are unshed tears in Daniel’s eyes, pooled and glistening over his bottom lids behind his glasses. He doesn’t have his lips bitten between his teeth like Jihoon is so used to seeing on him and instead, has his mouth hanging slightly open in a way that reveals the side of his buck-tooth. It’s quite startling, to be perfectly honest, but perhaps the most glaring signal that this isn’t simply an overreaction is the evident manifestation of fear and apprehension clearly plastered all over Daniel’s face. There in the small quiver of his lower lip and the beads of sweat lining his forehead—it kills whatever heat Jihoon’s been harboring in a snap of a finger.

“Dan—”

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry…”

Jihoon feels something tugging inside him then, something unpleasant and dragging on the walls of his chest cavity that’s triggered by the weak sound of Daniel’s voice. “Daniel—”

“I-It won’t happen again,” he says abruptly, looking down at their feet as he hangs his head even lower. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Hey.” Jihoon takes the reins, using his free hand to clap him on the shoulder. He ignores the way Daniel literally jumps from his spot in a hard flinch and just tries to keep his hold on him and his face neutral, levelling his voice out when he says, “I’m not mad.”

It gets Daniel to pause at least, giving Jihoon a small window to completely shift any remnant feelings of annoyance right out of his system. He’s not going to pretend he’s okay with what just happened, but the least he can do is to not make things worse by letting his own feelings pour out unchecked. 

“I’m not mad.” He repeats, more for himself this time than for the other person. “It was an accident, you don’t have to apologize. In fact, I think I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

It’s a small consolation to see the look of apprehension on Daniel’s features be replaced by startled confusion. Jihoon offers a small smile, keeping the hand holding Daniel’s shoulder light and reassuring. “I was the one who said that you could tell me if something felt too uncomfortable for you to do, remember? And you did, or...at least you tried to. But I didn’t listen.” He shrugs, only to be met by a shake of the head.

“Jihoon—it’s not your fault...” Daniel tries to say. Jihoon just gives another shrug.

“Well it isn’t yours either. And frankly speaking, I don’t think it really matters to know whose fault it is anyway,” he says with complete sincerity. As much as he means that though, it doesn’t really do much in comforting Daniel in the least; he’s still tense at the shoulders with a knot of worry marking the center of his brows. 

“Hey, listen.” Jihoon continues, his tone just short of a sigh. “It’s done, okay? No point in worrying about it now. The people there probably won’t even bother remembering anything by tomorrow, and I already told you I’m not mad so it’s fine. Ease up a little, hm?”

It comes to no surprise that Daniel doesn’t even budge, but it doesn’t mean Jihoon wasn’t at least hopeful. He watches him open and close his mouth a few times, the hesitation physically palpable.

“I...I just—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Jihoon says ahead of him, somehow already knowing what’s going on in his head. Or at least partially. “It’s fine, Daniel. I mean it. And if it makes you feel any better, why don’t we just forget that it ever happened, okay?”

It takes a while, a few long seconds that has Jihoon hanging onto his own words in worried anticipation. The walls are inches thick, that much is certain even from the moment they first met, but Jihoon is now only starting to grasp just how solid and glacial that is the iceberg that Daniel surrounds himself with. It’s frigid and unwelcoming—so tough in fact that just when he thought he’d begun to carve out a decent chunk of ice from the surface, it just molds right back to freeze all over again.

Suffice to say that he doesn’t at all expect it when Daniel finally lets out a response in the form of a small but sure nod. His eyes are still downcast and his shoulders are still tense from where Jihoon’s hand is over it, but it’s better than nothing.

Jihoon takes a step back then, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as he tips his head skyward to check the position of the sun. “We have about a few hours before sundown. I guess I should tell you now that since we’re pretty much loaded up on supplies, it’ll probably be a while before we make another pit stop,” he starts to say in an attempt to get their footing off on a different topic, gesturing back to the strip mall they walked from. “I saw a motel on the way here. We could rent a room and stay the night if you want. I know you’re probably still adjusting to sleeping in the truck so—”

“No.” Daniel suddenly pipes up, eyes shy and wide. “I-I mean, umm—we don’t have to stay on my account. I’m alright with camping out.”

A sliver of annoyance worms its way up again and Jihoon does his best to stomp it down. “Daniel—”

“This isn’t about money, I promise.” Daniel is quick to say, his hands raising a little in front of him. “I really don’t mind sleeping in the truck. I...like being out on the road.”

Somehow out of everything he’s heard out of Daniel’s mouth, that has got to be the most ridiculous statement that it becomes physically impossible for Jihoon to hold back the sarcastic snort he makes; his eyes squinting skeptically in the process. “You’re just saying that.”

“I-it’s true!” Daniel nods, a little too eagerly. “I, umm—don’t actually like being in a place with too many people around and...umm, I feel better when it’s just the two of us.”

Jihoon’s thought train comes to a screeching halt in a split second, pausing in its tracks to dissect what he just heard. Now, he’s aware that what Daniel just said could be taken into two  _ drastically  _ different ways. There’s the borderline creepy kind—treating it like a line from a scene of a cheap psychopathic killer movie fresh from the 80’s just before he, the unsuspecting victim, gets his throat slit in his own car—or he can take it the other way, all on the other end of the spectrum in a more flattering angle.

It’s obvious what Jihoon would go for on a normal analysis, but for some very odd and unfounded reason he currently can’t put his finger on, something in his stomach suddenly lurches right up to the cavity in his chest that’s responsible for his supply of living bodily fluids. It’s definitely not acid reflux—because he’s had those before and he’s sure as hell that the sensation isn’t as warm as what he’s currently feeling at the moment—but whatever it is has him looking down on his shoes and to basically anywhere that isn’t Daniel’s eyes.

“Umm—are you, uhh—sure?” He says with a mental slap to himself because  _ why the hell is he stuttering for?  _ “I-I mean, I don’t mind staying in for a night if it helps you adjust a little. I don’t want your back to hurt. You’re, umm...pretty tall.”

If Daniel even notices his sudden, uncharacteristic speech patterns, he doesn’t show it and instead just nods again with conviction. “Yes, I’m sure. My back doesn’t hurt, and I promise I’m fine.”

That’s pretty hard to believe, but the sarcasm dies in his tongue before it can even form into something abstractly usable. “Well, okay then.” Jihoon takes a breath, forcing himself to sail back to normalcy. The inside of his right cheek might get a blister from how hard he’s chomping on himself but hey, it works. “I guess we’re done here. We should get moving.”

Daniel hums his assent and proceeds to go around the truck to climb on the passenger’s seat without another word. Jihoon takes a second to shake his head of whatever nerves he was suddenly hit with before he loads the rest of their spoils and gets in himself. He’s in the process of buckling in when he suddenly remembers.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, turning around to lean over on the backseat to pilfer though one of the brown grocery bags they bought. His fingers find the familiar tact easily and in no time pulls out the pack of colorful gummy bears from the stash, tossing it to land on Daniel’s lap.

“I bought about five packets so there’s more in the back if you finish this.” Jihoon snorts, right before he starts the engine and checks his mirrors. He can feel eyes boring on the side of his face, and it may or may not be taking an extreme amount of willpower for him to ignore it.

The silence doesn’t last as long now, and this time he’s fully awake to hear it when Daniel mutters out in his shy and husky breath.

“Thank you.” 


	3. Smile on Three

It’s around the two week mark since inviting another living soul to travel the aimless road with him that Jihoon begins to question his own level of introversion. He’s tried to tick off in his head the universally accepted standards one is slated to embody to even  _ be _ considered an introvert and checked it within himself if he even still fits in that societal category people like labelling themselves with. His friend circle is so small that the number of people in the mix probably wouldn’t even be able to form an actual circle; he prefers the quiet lifestyle of an old hermit rather than the explosive youthfulness people his age usually tumble with; and he’s always revelled in being alone and having his own personal space around him than the alternative.  _ That _ he’s pretty sure of—or at least he was until he’s spent this much time around Daniel.

He’s quiet. A little  _ too _ quiet to the point that Jihoon will sometimes even forget that he’s even driving with another person entirely. In fact, and on more than one occasion even, Jihoon would honestly get jolted in surprise by even the sound of another person’s voice. They could be five hours in on an afternoon drive at any given day and his mind would just fall into that blissful and empty state he loves getting into, and then Daniel would suddenly speak up from beside him asking him to pull over so he can pee.

It wasn’t a big deal at first, and Jihoon had initially pegged this silent haze as something normal that occurs for two strangers who are just starting to get acquainted with each other. He thinks that it’s completely fine that Daniel doesn’t talk much (or at all) during their first few days out on the road, but it’s been more than  _ ‘just a few days’ _ that it’s really starting to get a bit stifling. It would make more sense to blame it on what happened at their last pit stop, but it’s not even remotely consistent to do so because on the contrary, Daniel’s been quite the dutiful companion in pretty much every other aspect.

He helps Jihoon cook their meals now, does all the cleaning when they’re done and even makes sure all their stuff is in line before and after they start driving off again. He wipes the windshields whenever Jihoon stops for a potty break and heck, even his laundry pile looks better. There’s really nothing to complain about, and it’s pretty much just the idea of things that’s giving him this weird feeling at the back of his head; the singular thought of how strange it is to have spent the past fourteen days with another person—in such a confined space, no less—and still not know a single thing about them.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, per se, because it’s completely fine and normal for people to be reserved and private. He should know that better than anyone, and Daniel could very well be thinking the exact same thing as him on this account as this is the part where he’s sure his inherent introvertedness still remains intact. As much as he internally questions and slightly complains about the deafening silence in his truck, he knows in himself that he hasn’t exactly been very forthcoming in terms of conversation either.

To be fair though, it’s mainly because he’s being sensitive towards his companion’s feelings. It’s the twenty-first century and Jihoon is aware and socially conscious enough to know when a person has an ill form of anxiety when he sees it. There’s already an impenetrable wall right in the space between the driver and passenger seats and the last thing he wants is for that wall to grow even thicker.

So he settles with the quiet and not-knowing, telling himself it’s okay that he doesn’t even know Daniel’s last name or even his age for that matter. It’s okay that the only things he  _ does _ know about the other person is his penchant affliction for sweets and that he actually does prefer sleeping cooped up and folded on the backseat of the truck rather than in the standard comfort of a reclined backrest. (Jihoon’s let up and offered him to sleep in front only to be declined a good five days ago.)

He’s just about started to accept this as the norm for them when the first tectonic shift happens in the most unexpected of ways. It’s pretty much an ordinary afternoon as far as ordinary goes for him out here, and they’re currently parked at one of those camper outhouses so they could go clean up and actually have a proper bath. And because it’s been more than a week of the quiet routine he’s living with, it completely takes Jihoon by surprise when he walks back to the truck after his shower only to see Daniel sitting on the flatbed and holding something of his that he hasn’t seen himself for quite some time now.

“What are you doing?”

Daniel’s shoulders jerk at the sound of his voice, looking up with eyes not unlike a child’s who got caught doing something he shouldn’t. Jihoon watches his lips purse, fingers going still from where they were fiddling with the brown, plastic body of the film camera between his hands.

“I—umm…” He tries to say, sheepish and just slightly contrite. “S-sorry. I was keeping our dirty clothes in the laundry bag when I accidentally hit something with my foot under the car seat. I thought it felt, umm—fragile so I was just checking if I broke it,” he explains in detail, eyes widening before he blurts out, “I-it’s not though! I think it still works.”

Jihoon lets out a mediated sound that’s a cross between a scoff and a chuckle, smirking a little as he walks closer to sit beside him while he continues drying his still-damp hair.

“It’s fine. To be honest, I kinda forgot I even had that with me,” he says, tipping his chin at the device. “I haven’t actually used that in a while so even if it did break, it won’t really matter that much.”

“Oh,” is all Daniel replies with, eyes going back to the camera. Jihoon expects the conversation (if you could even call it that) to end there but to his surprise, he instead gets a question thrown at him.

“Are you a photographer?”

Like a bubble bursting, Jihoon coughs out another airy laugh that only serves to startle Daniel. He clears his throat a little, biting back the smile threatening to break out of his face. 

“God, no. I actually bought that thing on an impulse during my first week on the road,” he says, shaking his head. “I was hoping to pick it up as a hobby. I thought since I’d be driving a lot, I’ll probably pass by some amazing views and whatnot so at the time, taking photos seemed like a cool idea.” Jihoon shrugs, fondly berating his past self for this expensive decision. His smile grows a little wider. “I didn’t even get to finish the first roll of film. And it’s honestly been sitting under the car seat a week after I bought it.”

The slightly startled expression on Daniel’s face morphs into a peculiar mix of confused understanding just as he nods at Jihoon’s story. His eyes go down to the camera again, his tone just on the edge of wistful when he says, “That’s too bad.”

“You can have it if you want,” Jihoon says casually, only vaguely aware and concerned about the fact how he’s falling yet again into another impulsive decision over the same object. “I’m not using it anymore, and I honestly don’t see myself using it any time in the near future.”

“Jihoon...” There goes the expected apprehension, right on cue. “I can’t possibly—”

“How ‘bout I let you  _ borrow _ it then?” He counters, smug and sounding just a little like a con-man. “You seem to be more interested in it than I am. Plus, I have a shit-tonne of unused film rolls that I bought along with that thing and it’d be a waste to just let them live the rest of their days under my car seat. You’d make the money I spent  _ much _ more worthwhile that way.”

There isn’t an immediate response, but it’s pretty obvious how Daniel is considering his words that it takes everything in Jihoon not to break out into a triumphant grin when the fish finally takes his bait. Daniel nods, his lips tight and clamped but tilted in a pleased smile.

“Borrow.” He repeats, nodding at the device in his hand. “I actually haven’t used a film camera for a while now, but I used to. I’m not good or anything, but it was a fun hobby,” he says in fond passing, yet another surprise in its own because that’s probably the most amount of information about himself that he’s shared so far.

“Great. Then by all means, feel free to—” Jihoon hasn’t even finished half of what he was going to say when the tell-tale click of a shutter cuts him off. He sharply turns his head to the right, only to be met by another click as the lens of the camera undoubtedly captures his image again. It takes a solid second for him to register what just happened, and he’s about to retaliate in playful banter but it’s what he sees behind the camera that ultimately makes his brain stutter to a pause. 

Daniel’s lips are set in a tight line, which is almost usually the case for him only this time, it’s not out of trepid hesitation. It’s still shy and sheepish, definitely withheld, but also almost crossing the border of an actual smile hidden with glee. His eyes are wider than they usually are, holding a hint of mischief in their depths that Jihoon thinks looks a tad bit shameless.

“Still works,” Daniel says without a hint of remorse, the corners of his mouth curving ever so slightly as he brandishes his new toy. Jihoon just rolls his eyes before going back to drying his hair.

“So, anyway.” He clears his throat, eyes looking straight ahead to nowhere in particular. “I was talking to one of the groundskeepers here earlier. He mentioned that since we’re in the area, we should go check out this diner nearby just a few meters ahead of here. They apparently serve the best pancakes over on this side of the country, or so the guy says.” 

Jihoon waits for that to sink in, counting three seconds in his head before he turns to the side to gauge Daniel’s reaction. His face is neutral and passive, which he takes as a good sign to continue. “He was very enthusiastic about it...and I was kinda thinking of taking up the suggestion. The sun’s about to set and I thought maybe we could get an early dinner or something. Is that cool with you?” He hates how his voice pitches up a little on that last bit, hoping against the odds that Daniel doesn’t get too worked up on the offer.

“Why are you asking?” Daniel mutters after a while, eyes curving down in that familiar shy look he always makes. “Umm...not to sound rude but, does it even matter what I think? I mean, you’re the one driving, and if you want to eat there then—”

“Of course it does.” Jihoon cuts him off, answering with convicted honesty. “If I didn’t think that your opinion mattered, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?” He raises an eyebrow, just a little stern. Besides this outhouse, they haven’t exactly made a pit stop anywhere that’s even remotely considered civilized in terms of human density and establishment size, and the last one they made is still fresh in Jihoon’s mind that he’s just making sure of things now before he acts. He’s not going to say that though, and instead just waits patiently.

“Well, I do love pancakes,” Daniel eventually says, pursing his lips as he raises a hesitant eyebrow. “But breakfast for dinner?”

The fact that it’s not a rejection already puts a smile up Jihoon’s face, one he can’t hold back no matter how much he tries. “Would you rather have another bowl of instant ramen instead?” He teases back, and the way his companion bites down his lips and looks at the ground is enough of an answer for him.

The place isn’t that far, true to what the groundskeeper at the outhouses told him, and they’re soon pulling up to park on the lot in front of a modest sized diner just alongside the highway. The building is stained and aged with the weather, with some of the exterior paint and panels starting to peel off, but the clarity of the glass windows and the small tufts of grass surrounding the establishment is enough indication that the place is still well-taken care of. The fact is all further proven once they actually enter the diner, because as dilapidated it might seem on the outside comes the exact opposite for what it is on the inside.

The spotless, tiled flooring that matches well with the vibrantly painted walls bring in a sort of colorful warmth in the moment the doors swing open to their entry. Retro finishings of sleek metal accents on the main diner countertop and neon signs hung sparsely around the entire interior further amplify the mood this eatery gives out, seeping with a vibe that was of a time before Jihoon was even born.

As much as he wants to ogle some more and admire the vintage pieces and appliances decorating the place, he tamps down the thirst for aesthetics in favor of checking up on his companion. He drags his eyes to the side to be subtle, watching Daniel’s reaction from the corners of his vision. Besides the fact that he’s a little stiff and has his head slightly tipped down, he looks more or less okay considering the modest amount of people in the room. 

“Let’s get a seat by the corner, hm?” Jihoon mutters under his breath, still not taking any chances. He’s rewarded with a shy smile and the smallest of nods from his tall friend before they both saunter over to a booth situated over on one end of the diner that’s well-away from the rest of the other patrons.

“Order anything you like, okay?” Jihoon says as they sit and open their menus, ignoring the small nagging feeling he gets on how redundant he sounds. Daniel just nods at him, which he supposes will mean what he thinks it means. 

“Are you boys ready to order?” One of the waitresses comes by a minute later, all perky and smiles as she pops the spring on her ballpoint pen.

“Yeah. I’ll have the ultimate pancake platter, please.” Jihoon nods to the full-sized photo gracing the first page of the menu of the diner’s specialty. He chances a glance at Daniel when it comes to his turn, not at all surprised by the next things he says.

“I’ll have the same thing please.” 

Jihoon does his best to swallow down the upchuck of discontent that threatens to escape him and just politely folds his menu to pass to the waitress. And maybe it’s because his expectations are hammered and his guard is completely down, but he can’t help but snap his gaze back up when he hears Daniel speak again.

“Can I also get a double chocolate milkshake?” He says, pointing to the image of it on the menu. The waitress happily nods to him and makes sure their orders are in place before excusing herself and promising to get their food ready in a few minutes—or something along those lines, Jihoon thinks. He’s not really listening when the waitress takes her leave and just continues staring at Daniel, only vaguely aware that he’s smiling.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jihoon downplays with a smirk, finally averting his gaze to look out the window. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, choosing instead to leave the small celebration within himself and just ride the lightness of the situation in comfort. Daniel probably gets the hint as well, proceeding to play with his camera and clicking away a few photos of the diner.

“I’m curious,” Jihoon starts to say after a beat of careful contemplation. He wants to take advantage of this rare moment with him, but in turn making sure that he only says things that he himself is willing to hear if the tables were turned. “Is this your first time?”

The question successfully gets him a couple blinks of confusion instead of stiffening hesitance from as he turns to his attention and puts down the camera on the table. “Eating at a diner? Umm—not really?”

“No, silly.” The gets him chuckling, tipping his head towards the window in the next second. “I mean being outside. You know, going on a road trip—camping. This sort of thing. Is this your first time?”

“Ah.” Daniel nods, and Jihoon quietly embraces another win when he sees that he’s not shying off from the inquisition. “Well, I guess you could say that it is. I’m, uhh—not exactly the outdoorsy kind, to be honest.”

The admission in his statement serves more of a surprise than the actual statement itself that Jihoon can’t help it when his eyebrows shoot up in response, making Daniel stutter a little.

“N-not that I mind being outdoors, or living the way we do in the truck—I don’t! It’s just that, umm—” A hand goes to the back of his head, lips hiding between his teeth that gives Jihoon another view of his small buck tooth. “Nothing’s really happened yet for you to see but to be honest, I’m actually a little—okay, maybe not a little—scared of bugs…”

Now it’s Jihoon’s turn to give out a few blinks of confusion himself, only managing a small ‘ _ what?’ _ that’s barely even audible.

“I’m scared of bugs.” Daniel repeats for him, having found and steadied his voice evenly. “I don’t like them. And, I guess that’s why I never really tried to go out camping—since sleeping outdoors is almost always associated with coming into contact with critters that have more than four legs in their anatomy.”

At a loss for words, Jihoon then just blinks a few more times before the bubble bursts in his lungs and a chuckle comes out and evolves into a small laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Daniel asks, and Jihoon almost does another fit when he sees that he’s almost pouting.

“Sorry. It’s just—I can’t imagine a big guy like you being afraid of something so small.”

“And yet you also find it hard to imagine me being a serial killer when you picked me out of the road that day,” Daniel says without missing a beat, eliciting another laugh out of him. 

“Touché.” Jihoon bites down the preceding laughter, slightly amazed that they’re now at the point where they can talk about that day lightly. Who would’ve thought? 

“I’m serious though,” Daniel continues with a small shrug. “I remember my first and last camping trip was back in seventh grade, when I used to be a boy scout.”

“You were a boy scout?” Jihoon almost bursts out again, but he only gets a nod as if the fact is as ordinary as him being a student.

“We had a camping trip on school grounds and I literally cried that entire night because there was a grasshopper in my tent,” he says with a shudder, eyes squinting in disgust. “And ever since then, I make sure that I always have an electric fly swatter with me wherever I go—just in case.”

It gets another laugh out of him, a little stifled when he sees that Daniel isn’t joining in. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Daniel nods and hums in assent, face straight with undiluted honesty. “It’s not as bad as I imagined it would be like though—I mean now...with you,” he says, in a tone that Jihoon is much more familiar with. “I guess it helps that we sleep inside the truck.”

“Ah, right.” Jihoon clears his throat then, and he tries his best not to hang on  _ too _ , too much over on what Daniel just said. He’s slowly coming to learn just how honest in words his new companion can be in the most casual of occasions, and he’s already surmised that this feeling he gets whenever Daniel says something flattering is most probably because he’s not used to flattery himself. Yeah, that makes sense. And he’s in this state of reorganizing his thoughts and pulling himself out of this weird,  _ warm  _ bubble that he fails to register the next question Daniel throws at him.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I just asked how often you did this too. Camping and all.” Daniel repeats, innocent curiosity playing behind his specs. It’s a simple enough question but before Jihoon can tell his own story and answer, the waitress comes walking back to their table with their food in hand. Suffice to say, the size and quantity of the meal placed before him is an acceptable enough excuse for the words to die in his mouth. He swears this pancake stack is bigger than his head.

“Two ultimate platters and a double chocolate milkshake.” The waitress serves cheerily, smiling all the while. “Enjoy your meal boys. Just holler if you need anything.”

“Wow.” Jihoon hears Daniel saying, and he looks up to see him ogling in amazement in the same way. "Wait, can I take a photo first?”

He takes out his camera again, leaning in on the viewfinder and adjusting the lens as he points it to their food. And Jihoon is maybe still a little dazed by their meals and their light conversation earlier that it totally catches him off guard when Daniel suddenly points the camera up and takes a photo of him.

“Ya—!” 

It gets him a cheeky smile, not unlike the expression he made earlier outside when he first snuck a photo of him.

“If I knew you’d be taking photos of me this much, I would’ve thought twice before letting you have that thing,” Jihoon says in jest, although immediately regretting the words when he realizes how blunt he just sounded. He dodges the bullet though, and he breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees that the smile on Daniel’s face just grows. “At least tell me before you take one.”

“Photos are better when they’re candid,” he says without a hint of shame, almost snickering under his breath. Jihoon just feigns a scoff and shakes his head, picking up a fork to start his attack on his pancake platter until another click of the camera echoes in the same time as his first bite. With his mouth full, all he can do is narrow his eyes in playful warning before Daniel concedes and puts the camera down in surrender.

“I’m the same as you, by the way.” Jihoon nods after a hefty swallow, picking up on Daniel’s last question. “This is the first time I ever went on a road trip. Or even camping, for that matter.”

“No way,” Daniel says suddenly. And as if catching himself with his own words, he backtracks and tries to wave his hands in defense. “I mean, umm—it doesn’t look like it’s your first time. You seem to know a lot more about living out there than I do at least.”

Jihoon only smiles, taking another bite of his food. Man these pancakes are good. “That’s ‘cause I’ve been out longer than you, but technically speaking, I’ve never really done this before either.” He smiles to himself, his own memories of the beginnings of this runaway trip resurfacing to the forefront of his mind. “I probably seem like I know what I’m doing now, but it didn’t always used to be this way. I was much more of a disaster than you can imagine when I first set out.”

“Really?” Daniel says in genuine curiosity, even leaning forward a bit on the table as he takes a sip of his milkshake. “How so?”

Jihoon blinks, a little taken aback. Not by the question, but it’s the feeling he suddenly gets in hearing it. He can’t really be sure or point it out exactly, but there’s this sudden urge to tell his story that shoots right up to the tip of his tongue. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s had near-zero social interactions with another person for a while now that his human need to socialize is taking in every opportunity to quench itself—or maybe it’s just the way Daniel asks him with his innocent, puppy-dog look that has him willingly opening up his rusted doors.

“Well—” He starts with a sigh, leaning back a little on the plush seat of the booth. “Let’s just say that I brought  _ way _ more stuff than I thought I needed when I first hit the road. Not including that camera, I’d say I probably spent a huge amount of money on camping gears and accessories that I realized later on I never really needed.” 

“Like what?” Daniel asks, as if he’s hanging onto his every word. It’s cute.

“I had a tent.” Jihoon admits a bit sheepishly, shrugging. “Like a huge ass, family camping tent that I never managed to put up not even once. I tried, failed, and gave up on the first attempt.” He chuckles then, at the memory of trying to figure out all those spokes and poles and to which went to what hole and wire with only the help of an instruction manual he never quite understood. He can see Daniel biting his lip when he looks up, holding back an obvious smile.

“I donated half of the shit I bought at a thrift store on the first town I passed by. Then I donated everything else when I drove by another one. Everything I have left is basically whatever it is we’re using now,” Jihoon continues, eyes glancing to the window on his right to look at his truck outside. He’s come a long way, he thinks. But not far enough.

“I still think you’re way better at this than I am though,” Daniel pipes up, pulling him out of the path his thoughts are taking him to and grounding him back to the present. He looks at his companion again with an eyebrow raised in jest.

“You’re giving me too much credit.”

“I’m serious.” Daniel makes a tight-lipped sneer. “I probably wouldn’t last very long out there on my own. I couldn’t even figure out how to work the stove without your help.”

“Like I said, I started out much longer than the two weeks you’ve spent with me,” Jihoon says, popping one of the blueberries from the top of his pancake stack into his mouth. “The stove we have right now? It was a bitch for me in the beginning too. I burned one of my shirts once, you know. And don’t even get me started on the amount of times I thought the thing was gonna blow up on me when all I wanted was to cook some damn ramen.”

Daniel makes a farting noise with his clamped lips at that, eliciting a wide-eyed expression in the next second and a pause on Jihoon’s side. Their eyes meet, and a bubble of a laugh comes out of Jihoon’s lungs in a squeak that sounds a lot like a wheezing chew toy.

What happens thereafter is gravely beyond his level of comprehension, because in the short moment it took for the tables to turn and for Daniel to sport a similar expression of surprise over at the sound he just made, they’re both suddenly laughing. He didn’t even say anything funny—or at least he thinks he didn’t—but the way Daniel is suddenly doubling up on his seat across the table suggests otherwise. And Jihoon himself is no better; hands flying up to his mouth in an age-long habit as he wheezes out in mirthful bliss.

And it’s in the midst of this weirdly conducted hysterics that a new kind of light hits his four-eyed companion that’s bright enough on the planes for him to notice. And no it’s not just the way the setting sun rays penetrate the window beside them and illuminate him, but it’s more of Daniel looking like he’s emitting the glow from within himself. The way his eyes have turned into happy little crescents and how his mouth is stretched taut in a huge, cheshire-cat grin, revealing the entirety of his slightly crooked dentures as he continues in this weird, staccato-like laughter that’s turning the tips of his ears red—all looks completely natural on him.

They laugh and they laugh, and chuckle a little bit more until Jihoon’s cheeks start to hurt and his chest starts feeling a little winded. When he’s finally coming down from the high, the realization hits him so hard that he has to literally hold on to his seat to counteract the whiplash. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen a genuine smile on Daniel’s face, and he sure as hell has never been privy to his laughter until today. 

“Sorry, I—” Daniel tries to say but cuts himself off with an aftershock of a chuckle. It’s the same, old words that frequent his mouth, but in a completely different tone to what Jihoon has long since been used to. Unapologetic. “You laugh funny.”

“ _ I  _ laugh funny?” Jihoon rounds on him, only vaguely aware of the dopey grin that’s creeping up his face. 

“We should eat. Our food’s getting cold,” Daniel suddenly says in averted defense, still biting back his own smile as he picks up his fork and knife again. Jihoon follows suit, and it’s only after he’s taken a few bites and drank some water that he allows himself to fully simmer in what he just witnessed.

Daniel’s walls are frigid and arctic, inches thick and solid to the core. That much he’s sure of, proven time and time again even in the smallest of moments. But what Jihoon has started to realize just now is that maybe—maybe those walls aren’t as two-dimensional as he originally thought it was. It takes a fair bit of effort and time to carve into, yes, but it‘s by no means impenetrable; not when he’s finally starting to see the thin layers of ice from where the sun hits him and makes him glow. 

As indifferent as he was before, Jihoon now finds himself strangely pulled in to finding out what’s hidden beneath the frost; turning the task to be one of his bigger challenges yet. And if he gets to see Daniel smile like the way he’s so unabashedly doing now, then maybe it'll be worth it.


	4. Look How The Stars Shine For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: If you've read this far, you would've probably surmised a few guesses by now but just a fair warning, starting from this chapter there will be mentions and implied references to the extremities of mental illness.

Sometimes in life, you never really know just how deep the path you’re trying to travel is until you reach the point where it’s a little too late to go back and do things differently. Jihoon surmises that he’s had his fair share of these moments, when even the fact of his being out here on the road feels a lot like that in a sense. Despite sometimes having thoughts of how he could’ve acted differently on certain occasions, he at least likes to believe that he holds no regrets to his actions.

The start of this entire trip would count as the biggest example out of everything, when in just the first two weeks after he’s packed up and left the city, he’s already entertained the idea of going back home and just facing what awaits for him. Granted, factors he didn’t account for such as the food he’ll be eating and that first mishap with his camper stove were all pretty convincing forces, but the fact that he was all the way across the country during the time helped to stave him off the thought better than anything else could. He wouldn’t be living with the mindset he has now if it weren’t for those days of struggle, and he’s glad he stuck by his decision even until now with no regrets.

Despite having said that though, the current path he’s taken upon himself to traverse now is proving to be a much more difficult feat with regards to whether or not he regrets starting in the first place. Taking Daniel in was an act of kindness, one he honestly didn’t think very hard on at the time because admittedly, it isn’t really all that bad of a decision to make especially when the person obviously needed his help. He doesn’t regret that part of the situation, but what  _ is _ giving him a wave of second thoughts is the conscious decision he made in trying to break through the other person’s walls.

It’s not that he thinks it difficult or completely unattainable (because heavens be damned if there isn’t a challenge that Park Jihoon can’t handle), but the realizations that come to him as he slowly pries open Daniel’s shell isn’t something he thinks he’s as ready to face as when he actually started giving it a go.

For one, after that day at the diner he’s found it incredibly easy to talk to him. The long, silent drives to nowhere seem like a thing of the past now, easily replaced by a comfortable kind of chatter that would, more often than not, last for miles and hours. It’s still kind of an unspoken rule that they steer clear of personal topics, but random conversations about the most random of things now occupy the space between them that Jihoon finds he doesn’t really mind that much of. 

“Do you have pets?”

“Hm?” Jihoon chances a quick glance beside him to where Daniel is slightly turned on his seat to face him; hands holding a bag of Haribo gummy bears as he waits for an answer.

“Do you have pets, umm—back home? Where you live.”

“Oh. Uhh, I have a dog. A schnauzer,” Jihoon answers with an amused smile. He’s never once been asked that before. “His name is Max.”

“Oh, that’s cute!” Daniel grins, one that Jihoon has no trouble seeing even if he isn’t directly looking at it. “I always had this thought that you’re probably a dog person. I guess I was right,” he says smugly, much to Jihoon’s curious amusement.

“And what, pray tell, do I give off for you to assume that I’m a dog person?”

Daniel shrugs at that, chewing casually on his gummy bears. “I guess it’s more of a gut feeling than anything—and the way you act,” he says, eyes squinting in serious observation as he takes a bite of his treat. ”You’re very kind, and caring. But at the same time you have this cool, commanding attitude that probably won’t do you any good if you were to own cats.”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, mocking affront in a small scoff. “Excuse you? Since when am I commanding?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Daniel’s smile only grows bigger. Mischievous. “You’ve been commanding since the first day I met you.”

He lets out that wheezing sound of a chuckle that Daniel has ever since so aptly dubbed as the ‘Jihoon-squeak’ that gets the both of them laughing again. He backtracks a bit on the thought and picks up on what Daniel meant with his statement, not at all finding it hard to come up with his own conclusion on the matter.

“So I suppose that means you’re a cat person?” 

Daniel couldn’t have nodded more eagerly than he did, proud when he says, “I have four girls. Peter, Rooney, Ori, and Jjang-ah.”

Jihoon squeaks again, having given up on trying to contain such sounds from escaping him at this point. “Girls? You named your lady cat  _ Peter _ ?”

“I didn’t bother to check for balls when I adopted her and only realized like, a week after she started living with me,” Daniel admits, a sheepish, tight-lipped smile coming up his face. “I’m really into spider-man, and from the get go Peter really loved climbing up to all the high places in the house so I named her after Peter Parker.”

The statement is so honest and innocent in nature that Jihoon actually braves to pull his eyes off the road in favor of facing Daniel. It’s only a few seconds of their gaze meeting, but it’s enough to bring up a strange feeling out of his chest that he doesn’t wholly understand.

“What?” Daniel asks, blinking in response. “Oh, did you want a gummy?”

He proceeds to fish out a bear from his pack then, a red one, before he moves his hand up to his face to feed it to him. And Jihoon must be really out of it at that moment because he actually opens his mouth to receive it.

And that’s another thing he’s started to notice about his companion the more he ventures into this dynamic of trying to break down his walls. Besides the openness to talk and share a fair bit in their conversations, Jihoon’s found that Daniel has this inexplicable urge for  _ tactual  _ contact. It’s not that big of a deal, and it only really ever happens in the smallest of instances that would otherwise go unnoticed if it were anyone else, but Jihoon is so attuned to the difference that his awareness on the matter is all but heightened whenever it presents itself.

It could be as simple as Daniel calling for his attention over something, where the immediate gesture he’s given is a tap on the shoulder or even a poke on the arm in some instances instead of just calling out his name. They could be out on flatbed after eating or just taking a little break when the truck gets a little stuffy from a long drive and Daniel would almost always sit next to him, close enough for their knees to brush. 

That’s not to say that Jihoon minds, because he doesn’t. It’s just one of the many observations he’s made that sort of fascinates him because Daniel doesn’t seem to notice it himself. It’s completely natural, and probably the most vexing thing about it is that he doesn’t really know what to make of the idea that Daniel has gotten to the point of natural comfort around him.

“When will you get tired of taking pictures of me,” Jihoon says one afternoon out of the blue, seconds after the familiar click of the film camera resounds to his right. He’s reading a book he got from a thrift store from the last town they were at, and they’re parked at some sort of wildlife reserve off the highway and under the shade of a few willow trees.

“You’re an attractive subject, Hoon. Not my fault the camera loves you,” Daniel says distractedly as he turns the dial to rotate the film roll, putting the device back up his face to take another shot. Jihoon refuses to look up or even acknowledge that statement, just as strong as he ignores the nickname he’s been so fondly called with lately or the way his stomach flips a little at being called ‘attractive’. By now he’s found it better to just ignore the flattering comments that come out of Daniel’s mouth instead of mulling it over in his head on whether he meant it as something else or not. It’s a better way to keep himself sane.

“Can you angle your book down a little? It’s kinda blocking your face.”

“I’m not modelling for you Daniel. I’m reading—”

“There! Perfect!” Another click, followed by the sound of gears turning the film inside the camera body and a chuckle from its user. “You could be though—a model, I mean. I’m not kidding when I say you’re attractive enough.”

“Gee, thanks.” There he goes again, and Jihoon just rolls his eyes. He tries to go back to reading, promptly giving up when he’s read the same sentence for the fifth time with zero comprehension. His thoughts are swirling like crazy even after Daniel has grown bored of him and is now taking pictures of the trees.

“How many rolls have you used up by now?” Jihoon asks, closing the book on his lap. Daniel turns a little, tipping his eyes up in thought.

“Two, I think. But the first one was the old one you left inside when you first let me borrow this, so I don’t really know how many photos that adds up to.”

Jihoon just hums in response, nodding in assent. “We should get them developed soon. Let’s keep a lookout for shops that can do it for us the next time we drive to a town.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up at that, shy surprise in his small eyes. “Oh, we don’t have to. I mean, they’re probably not that good any way. It’s okay if we don’t—”

“Shush.” Jihoon puts a finger up, keeping his face in mock neutrality. “What’s the point of you taking all these pictures if we don’t even get to see them? You’ve taken a dozen photos of me and I’m not letting that rot away in the films.”

As far as broken expectations go, Daniel actually chuckles and hangs his head in a nod of pleased defeat. And as Jihoon adjusts the throw cushion he’s leaning on to get more comfortable, he hears another click of the camera and looks up to see the lens pointed at him again. Except this time Daniel isn’t on the other end of the viewfinder; he’s behind the lens as well, posing next to him while he holds the camera up in an angle pointing to them.

“Selfies don’t really work out with film cameras, you know.” Jihoon snorts, picking up his book again. Daniel ignores him and suddenly goes to sit beside him, crowding him in the corner of the flatbed while he repeats the motion and aims the lens at them.

“You’re such a negatron. Isn’t it more exciting when you can’t see the selfie you’re taking? Now smile!” 

“I’m a  _ what?”  _ Jihoon asks, but is generally drowned by the mute sound of the shutter as Daniel takes another photo. He doesn’t know if he’s even aware of the fact that he’s literally leaning against his entire body with the way he holds their position.

“Hey, take it again. I wasn’t ready,” Jihoon says, looking up at the camera himself and pressing back against Daniel’s leaning form shamelessly.

“Alright one, two—three!”

And maybe a slight tingle lingers on the surface of his skin where their arms touched even after Daniel takes the photo and moves away from him, but that’s just going to be something that Jihoon keeps to himself.

Suffice to say, they’ve gotten quite close in the span of a few weeks. It took a while, and Jihoon’s aware that it’s still heavily conditional in that there are still a lot of personal aspects either of them still don’t dare to speak out or address about each other, but it’s a friendship nonetheless; one that Jihoon didn’t realize he missed being a part of after months of spending his days alone.

That’s not to say that things are always lighthearted, warm, and tingly when it comes to Daniel. His walls may have eased up somewhat with a fair bit of effort, but it hasn’t gone away nor does it look like it’s going to any time soon. There are days when it’s better, when Daniel smiles and takes pictures and just happily eats candy without a care in the world—but there are days when he just wakes up with a monotonous expression on his face and a cloud above his head that would often follow him for the rest of the day.

What’s worse is when the cloud is actually one of Jihoon’s doing, because even if it’s completely unintentional the effect is solidly the same. Talking to Daniel still requires a bit of tiptoeing on his part, but having gotten a little used to their newfound closeness has caused a fair amount of slip ups from time to time. A seemingly inconsequential comment about nothing in particular would sometimes be enough to throw him off the rail, leaving Jihoon baffled and guilty even for days at a time.

Once when they were pulling out of a gas station after a fairly quick load up of canned beer from the convenient store, Jihoon was just randomly telling a story of how he and his best friend back home used to go drinking at his place every weekend and had offhandedly asked if Daniel did the same with his friends as well. He only got a hummed response then, the sound neither an affirmation nor a denial right before he proceeded to keep silent for much the entire day.

It’s all completely random—these bouts of silence—leaving little to be understood on his part, but It’s on such an instance, however, that Jihoon is greeted with the most unexpected turnabout with regards to Daniel opening up to him.

It had been a quiet day for the most part—which Jihoon by now has learned to respect and grow accustomed to especially when he’d sensed early on that his companion’s mood wasn’t at its best when he woke up this morning—and he’s fully equipped to go to sleep that night without having a proper conversation whatsoever. They had just finished eating dinner when Jihoon decides to lie down on the flatbed for a little while to bask in the cool air and just look at the stars; out here in the darkness of the woods beyond the highway, the sky is glittering.

“Hey...Jihoon?”

The call comes out soft and raspy, completely inaudible if it weren’t for the fact that Daniel had also decided to lie on the flatbed right next to him. Jihoon turns his head a little, watching the other person's face as he too looks up to the night sky.

“Yeah?”

The contemplation is evident in the long, hesitant pause that follows. But he eventually gets a reply, albeit it being one he doesn't really expect.

"Do you believe in destiny?"

Jihoon blinks, his mind just short of being completely dumbstruck. The question is so unprecedented, so out of the blue that the stretched pause he makes is taken entirely out of context.

“S-sorry. That was a stupid question,” Daniel says hiking up and hiding behind his words. “Forget I said anyth—”

“Hey.” Jihoon cuts him off—a little harried, but that’s the least of his concerns. “It’s not stupid. I was just thinking. You kinda caught me off guard.”

“Oh. S-sorry…”

Jihoon lets out a breath, relief and contemplation mixing out with the wind. “And I do, by the way—believe in destiny...or at least to some extent. I like to believe that things happen for a reason,” he says in answer, snorting a little out of habit. He’s not gonna lie, it’s a little awkward saying that out loud especially since he’s never had this kind of conversation before with anyone.

“Do you ever question those reasons?” Daniel follows up, innocent and curious. “Like, do you ever wonder why some things happen the way they happen, and why they  _ have _ to happen?”

Jihoon ponders that, the question undeniably hitting home for him. He turns his head again to face back to the sky, putting his hands behind his head as he does. “Sure I do. Everybody gets that way sometimes, right?”

He hears a small gust of air from Daniel at that, sort of like a sighing chuckle, but weaker. “I guess I should rephrase the question,” he says, and now he lets out a sigh. “Do you ever get tired of trying to find sense from those reasons? Or get lost in trying to understand them?”

That one comes out heavy and full—so weighted, in fact, that Jihoon can feel the air going at a standstill around him along with Daniel’s words. He doesn’t know what to say to that in the immediate sense, and even after a pause all he can manage is, “What do you mean?”

Daniel shrugs, his gaze far off and melancholic. “I mean like, what if things are just...too much and too overwhelming...all at once. To the point that things start feeling a little unfair and you find yourself asking, why? Why are things like this? Why  _ me? _ ” Daniel’s voice comes out a little stronger this time, but by no means is it an indication of actual strength. If anything he sounds weaker, more broken and breathless than ever.

“What if you just...get to a point where you can’t find it in you to even understand the reasons anymore. Or rather—you just don’t want to bother trying. What if giving up starts looking like the best option to take.”

The air keeps its motionless stance, and Jihoon feels its full weight pressing in on him. If he was stumped with what to say earlier, then he’s all the more struck to muteness now that the silence that follows is only ever broken by the symphony of crickets around them. Daniel’s words ring in a familiar and dull echo; it’s as if it's a sound he’s been hearing for a while now, merely masked behind a layer of other tones.

Jihoon isn’t ignorant, and he knows that although Daniel’s gotten better around him in the sociological aspect of things, it’s still a far cry from what’s actually beneath the surface of his being. Jihoon hasn’t forgotten the original state he was in when he first picked him up from the road that day, nor the reasons why even until now he’s being wary with his words and avoiding to ask certain questions. There’s a lot to be said about the difference of theory versus experience, he thinks, because encountering this side of Daniel first hand is honestly a little unnerving.

And yet, as much as that’s the case—he can’t seem to find it in him to turn away.

“Do you see those stars up there?” Jihoon says suddenly, raising his hand and pointing a finger to their shared view of the sky. “The two bright ones that are almost above one another.”

“Umm—I think so…” The confusion and mixed surprise in Daniel’s tone is evident, but it’s barely enough to deter him when he goes on.

“Those two are actually part of a constellation. See, if you draw a line from them and connect it to those other bright ones to their left like this—” Jihoon traces with his finger, marking the pattern in the air with an invisible line. “You actually form the big dipper.”

He can feel rather than hear Daniel’s bated breath from beside him when he says that, and he doesn’t need to look to the side to guess that he’s probably doing that thing with his face where his brows dip lower and his eyes squint a little in concentration. Jihoon gives him a few seconds, not really minding whether he sees it or not.

“Now the big dipper isn’t inherently exciting or extraordinary, to be perfectly honest. It’s actually pretty normal as far as constellations go, and it's just really popular because it looks good up there with its shape.” Jihoon snorts, not even slightly bothered about how random he’s starting to sound. “What makes the big dipper special, however, isn’t its appearance—but rather, what it can point you to.”

He puts up his finger again, moving them slightly across two points without falter. “The two stars I mentioned earlier? The ones at the end of the ladle shape? If you draw a line from the first star to the second star, then continue that line all the way up ahead of them, you’ll eventually come across and see the north star—right there.”

Jihoon hones in on what he’s pointing at, not even vaguely aware whether Daniel can follow along or if he’s even listening to his blabbering. He finally brings his hand down after a couple of seconds, letting them rest on his sides.

“The north star is special and called that way because it’s probably the only star we can see that doesn’t move from its place,” he continues, voice softening and blending with the woods, a remnant of calm. “All the other stars, including the ones on the big dipper, move along the sky as the earth rotates—but the north star doesn’t. And wherever you are in the world, no matter the season or time, it always stays right where it is now. Always ahead of the big dipper, and always pointing north. In fact, people have been using it for ages as a guide to make sense of the path they’re on—like a sort of compass, so they can tell where they are and where they need to go.”

He pauses, swallowing a bit of lingering hesitation before it can form a lump in his throat to choke his words. It’s surprisingly easy to do, the task flowing right through him is as simple as breathing air. He only speaks again when he’s sure he’s in the clear, when the quiet around them is laden with pointed weight.

“I know that sometimes...it can be a little hard to make sense or even see the reason for why things are the way they are. It’s pretty easy to get lost when the odds are completely against you, especially if you can’t even find your own footing.” Jihoon breathes out an exhale, the fog of his breath only going as far as a few inches. He quietly hopes that his words don’t suffer the same fate. “I agree that giving up really is the best option to take sometimes but to be honest, I’m not personally a fan of going down that route myself,” he continues in a slow voice, softened to match the hum of the passing breeze. This time, he knows for sure that Daniel is all ears.

“I just think that sometimes, we tend to get a little too fixated on finding the north star to point us in the right direction that we often forget about the process of how to actually find it.” Jihoon nods to the sky then, his eyes finding a twinkle to the stars as he lets out a small sigh of contented relief. “Maybe...instead of focusing so much on finding our north star...we should try looking for our big dipper first.” He breathes out in finality, vaguely wondering when his supposed astronomy lesson-turned-monologue suddenly started applying to his own life as well.

He’s not entirely sure if any of what he just said was the right thing to say or not, because the sight that greets him when he turns his head to the side isn’t something he’s even remotely expecting or ready for, given the situation. 

Daniel is quiet and unmoving, still looking up at the sky except now there are few glistening streaks streaming down the side of his face in a silent cascade. Jihoon freezes a little, afraid that he’s finally done it and somehow crossed the line with his words. He’s racking his head for something to do, something to say. A response— _ anything— _ to placate the situation but Daniel beats him to it, speaking in his stead.

“Have you found yours? Your big dipper?” His voice is near breathless now, lower than a whisper when he asks aloud. The drumming in Jihoon’s chest calms down a bit when it doesn’t seem like Daniel’s tears are a cause for alarm, but it still takes a fair amount of effort to pull his own eyes away from the sight. There’s a sour feeling at the base of his stomach he doesn’t quite understand.

“No,” he answers, the word coming out more like a sigh than a statement when he faces back up the sky. “I’m not really looking, to be honest. And I know that sounds way too hypocritical of me after everything I just said but…” Jihoon bites his lips. Not out of hesitation, but of wonder. This is the first time he’s sharing something personal to Daniel, and he strangely doesn’t mind.

“Right now I kinda just...don’t wanna know what the north star or the big dipper will point me to. I just want to live for today, and the next day. Not think about anything else. They say ignorance is bliss, and I guess that’s kind of what I’m living for at the moment,” he says, ending the statement with a soft sigh through his nose. He doesn’t add much more than that and it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn’t really have to; the silence that looms over them this time is one of comfort, serene and peaceful to its core that it’s not hard to feel the day’s weariness slowly starting to creep up on him. 

“Just living for today,” Daniel repeats, and Jihoon is slightly reminded of the words he said when he first offered him to go on this trip. He chuckles out a soft gust of air, nodding idly.

When he turns his head to look at Daniel again some time later, he’s yet again met with another surprising sight but one that’s not wholly unexpected. With his cheeks still wet and his lips parted ever so slightly, Daniel has drifted off to the world of slumber. He looks peaceful—soft. The absence of the knot between his brows is so striking that Jihoon now only realizes it was even there in the first place.

And it’s along with this visual realization that he finds another small epiphany from the weird feeling he got a little while ago. The sourness in his gut when he watched beads of tears falling from Daniel’s eyes, the static helplessness that resonated within the walls of his chest that came with the reality that watching is all that he could ever do.

He breathes out another sigh and moves the hands resting on his side, ever so slightly brushing his fingers against Daniel’s in a ghost of a touch. He faces the sky again, and although there aren’t any streaks of light zooming across the darkness of the night, he makes a silent wish to the stars anyway.

Jihoon falls asleep that night with an unspoken hope fluttering just over his lips, that for the boy sleeping next to him never has to live another day holding the reasons for his tears all to himself.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


As luck would have it, they manage to find a small shop in the next town over to process Daniel's film rolls just the following afternoon. A quaint, little camera store run by an elderly couple who both seem just as surprised as they are to find customers who are actually looking to have their photos developed. 

It’s a good thing all on its own, but the most pleasant surprise for Jihoon comes from another source entirely. At this point down the road, he’s already gotten used to the kind of shift that happens with Daniel whenever they so much as breathe the same air as other people. It’s gotten better from how he initially was but he still gets quiet and a little reclusive in the presence of strangers that seeing him smiling now as he chats with one of the shop owners is a little startling.

They’re talking about photography in the technical sense so Jihoon naturally can’t follow along (or so that’s the excuse he tells himself because it definitely sounds better than admitting to being distracted by watching Daniel’s smile alone), but he finds himself thinking that maybe one of the stars from last night had enough light in it to make his wish come true, if only by a little. It may have been a bit awkward waking up this morning with Daniel’s face literally being only a few feet away from his own but if he gets this kind of mood in the long run, then he’s not going to complain.

“Hoon?”

He jumps in surprise—so distracted in his own thoughts that he fails to register that the very person he’s thinking about is already standing in front of him. Jihoon blinks and refocuses, hoping that the heat he feels travelling from the base of his neck isn’t visibly obvious.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Umm...the ahjussi just offered to teach me how to process the films in his dark room and in exchange, he said we can get a discount. But it’ll probably take about an hour or so to finish everything and, umm—I kinda want to try it but if you don’t want to wait then that’s also fine. I can just ask for the rolls back.” Daniel swallows, a few lines of worry marking the space between his brows. Jihoon just blinks a few times and shakes his head, chuckling.

“It’s fine, Daniel. We can stick around town for a bit.” His eyes go to the wooden wall clock at the other end of the store then, noting the time. “Go ahead. I can probably do a bit of shopping at the mini mart to stock up on some food while I wait,” he says, even though they just did groceries two days ago and they still have a decent amount of supplies on them.

“Are you sure? I mean I can always—”

“I’m sure.” Jihoon nods, and just for good measure gives Daniel a pat on the shoulder and his warmest smile. “Go. Have fun. I’ll come back for you later, okay?”

It doesn’t take much more convincing on his part, because Daniel is soon breaking out into his bunny-tooth grin and nodding eagerly. It’s not that huge a development, but Jihoon’s just glad that they’re finally at a level where he doesn’t need to enforce so much on Daniel to get him to do what he wants.

He steps back out to the wintry autumn air soon after, eyes scouting the area in trying to remember which way the mini mart he saw on the drive here was. Seeing as he has a lot of free time on his hands, Jihoon just follows the path of the wind and treads the sidewalk from there. It’s a pretty small town anyway, and maybe it's because it’s the first time in a long while that he’s actually all by himself again but walking aimlessly just feels like a much more exciting prospect than it actually is.

He doesn't get too far on the agenda though, because it’s on this carefree route that he gets sidetracked to a halt by none other than a poster of a fried chicken leg posted on the glass window of a convenient store. The realization that he can’t even remember the last time he ate chicken completely overlaps every other thought in his mind and he’s soon hearing the soft jingle of the shopfront’s doors when he enters.

"I'll have the leg and double wing combo meal, please," Jihoon says to the cashier a minute later, fishing his card out of his wallet with subdued excitement. The inside of his mouth is already salivating from the smell of the place alone and his mind is buzzing with barely contained glee while he watches the staff prepare his food. He isn't really paying that much attention to anything else—and maybe it's exactly because he isn't is why he notices something that's otherwise hidden in plain sight.

It's not even that big of a photo, just a small crop out that's plastered on the corner of one of the tabloid magazines displayed just below the cashier counter, and yet it's striking enough to immediately draw his attention away from why he even came in here in the first place. The image he’s staring at is so disturbingly familiar and foreign to him at the same time that it freezes every other thought process beyond recognition.

He's blonde in the photo, and wearing a suit-and-tie ensemble in front of what looks like a backdrop wall at some red carpet event. He doesn’t have his glasses on and the features of his face are accentuated with light makeup. It's a stark contrast to the colorful hoodie and sweatpants he constantly wears around him, but there isn't a single doubt in Jihoon’s mind that he’s looking at the same person.

“Sir?” The lady at the counter snaps him back from his reverie, eyebrows raised in question. “Would you like to upsize your drink?”

“Ah, sorry. No, but umm—” In a moment of impulse, Jihoon bends down and snatches the magazine from the rack, placing it on the counter. “I’ll get this too, please.”

He goes back to the truck soon after he pays for everything, his takeout bag of fried chicken sitting beside him and completely lost in his list of priorities. He’s still staring at the magazine cover, eyes stuck on the image on the side and reading the attached headline blurbs over and over again.

‘The Lies of Kang Daniel’ it says in bold lettering, screaming in all its ominous, clickbait-y glory. A part of Jihoon wants to open the pages and flip over to the article that’s currently making his heart beat at an alarmingly fast rate; the same part that got him to buy this trashy tabloid in the first place. He doesn’t even know Daniel’s last name until now, and the sudden revelation that the person he’s been travelling with for over a month now is actually a celebrity is really doing rounds on his curiosity.

The questions in his head bloom like wildflowers after a heavy douse of rain and now more than ever, he wants to know—wants to peek inside the near-impenetrable wall he’d been slowly chipping off for a while now to finally see what’s inside. The urge is so strong and the catalyst to satisfy it is literally in his fingers that it’s slowly becoming impossible for him to resist the temptation much longer.

He flips open the cover, only to be met by a beer and a perfume print ad on the first two pages true to it’s trashy tabloid name. He ventures to the next page—the table of contents—and sees the article of his interest in the list along with another photo of his companion. This time the photo looks more like him, a snap of Daniel in what looks to be an airport with his coppery-brown locks in full display. 

Voices from their conversation the night before suddenly echo at the back of his mind, and the image of Daniel’s face dripping with tears and the weak sound of his voice permeate his consciousness. Despite the itching curiosity, the sour feeling of going behind his friend’s back rises above enough to make him feel like he’s cheating somehow. Jihoon tears his eyes away from the magazine and looks up at the windshield then, just in time to see Daniel and the ahjussi coming back out over the counter through the shopfront’s window. They’re talking animatedly, the smiles bright and warm even through the glass.

Jihoon closes the gossip tabloid without another thought, tossing it down to where he junks most things he ends up forgetting about under the seat of his truck and ultimately deciding that he doesn’t need to know what other people think or write about Daniel. He’s okay with getting there in his own way, even if it means taking longer.

“You guys done?” Jihoon asks when he re-enters the shop, a small smile up that may or may not be a result of contagious staring. Daniel just nods happily at him.

“Yup! And Mr. Choi said that your camera is actually a really good one too. The photos look amazing!” He says in excitement, grinning from ear to ear while he holds up the envelope presumably where all the prints are in.

“Your boyfriend here tells me that you barely used it at all when you bought it. I guess it’s good he took an interest in it, huh?” The ahjussi says with a fond smile, instantly making Daniel’s ears flare up red and garnering a cough from Jihoon. He thinks he just choked on his own spit.

“Ah—Mr. Choi, we’re not—umm, we’re just—we’re just friends,” he says hurriedly, waving his hands up in front of him in pathetic defense. He just gets a chuckle from the old man, coy and amused.

“Oh? He had quite a number of pictures of you in there. Sorry, I just assumed.”

“Y-yeah, umm—no. Just friends.” Jihoon repeats, nodding rather excessively. He sees Daniel just staring at the ground, ears still bright red and lips clamped shut. “Umm, anyway. If that’s all then I guess I can settle the bill now?”

“Ah, of course. Let’s head over to the counter.”

Jihoon nods, clearing his throat at the exact moment the door dings on the entry of another customer. He follows along to the counter and is pulling out his wallet to pay when his eyes catch on to a box just on the shelf behind the cash register. 

“Oh, Mr. Choi. Can I also get a box of empty film rolls?” Jihoon points to it, eliciting a surprised brow from the owner.

“All of it?”

“Mhmm. Just in case. I don’t want him to run out and I don’t really know when’s the next time we’ll pass by a camera shop like yours.” 

For some reason, the answer he just gave puts up a knowing kind of smile on the ahjussi’s face that’s more sly and amused for what the situation calls for. He even lets out a soft chuckle and a quick glance to where Daniel is standing before grabbing the box and placing it on the counter. 

“Alright, let me just ring in your total,” he says without further comment as he types in his register. The receipt is already printing and Jihoon’s getting ready to pack up and go when he notices something off to the side of him. Daniel’s still stood where they left him over on the other end of the shop, and Jihoon doesn’t dwell too much on how he even notices it right away but he can immediately tell that something is wrong just in the way he’s holding himself. He couldn’t have walked back to him faster than he did.

“Hey.” He goes for casual, sensing the situation and going straight on when he notices how the customer who came in earlier is staring at Daniel. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t get a response, and Jihoon can see that the blush from just a few seconds ago is gone and that his face is paling by the second. Casualness be damned—he turns his head to look at the lady who still hasn’t stopped staring at him. “I’m sorry, but is there a problem here, miss?”

The lady seems to not have noticed just what she’s doing exactly and suddenly blinks in surprise at Jihoon’s intrusion. “Ah, I’m sorry I just—is he your friend?”

“Yes.” Jihoon answers in a beat, curt and reeking the message of ‘back the hell away’.

“Oh. I’m sorry it’s just that...he kind of looks familiar and—”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about him as if he’s not here, ma’am. And frankly, it’s just straight up rude to stare at people you don’t even know, don’t you think?” Jihoon replies, frank and just a tad bit menacing. He turns to Daniel then, noting how he’s shrunken in over his shoulders again and looking at the ground before gently taking his arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

He waves a goodbye and mouths a thank you to Mr. Choi who’s watching them all from the register before stepping out of the shop without another glance. He’s thankful that Daniel just follows along without much complaint, and it’s not too long before they’re both inside the safety of his truck. The relief is short lived, however, when Jihoon notices that Daniel doesn’t look any less shaken.

“You ready to go?” He asks, willing his voice to sound as normal as it can get. Daniel just nods at him mutely.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I got us some fried chicken here while I was walking around town earlier. There’s a lot so take as much as you want, okay?”

Another nod, and that all but leaves Jihoon with nothing else to do or say except rev the engine back up and start driving. Daniel doesn’t touch the chicken, doesn’t do or say anything even miles after they’re out of town and entering back into the highway.

The drive is long and quiet, and Jihoon for the life of him can’t stop glancing to the side to see if Daniel’s fingers have at least loosened up a bit from the way he’s clutching his enveloped photos. He’d been so excited about them earlier, but now the moment is reduced to nothing but silence. Time seems to move slower too, and Jihoon’s finding it a little hard to believe that the sun still hasn’t set yet when it feels like he’s been driving forever. 

He eventually puts his foot on the break after about two hours of non-stop driving, pulling over to one side of the road and switching on his emergency blinkers. Jihoon sighs first, letting the escaped breath resonate within the confines of the truck before clearing his throat and speaking.

“Hey.” He turns his head a little in Daniel’s direction, waiting for him to respond. It takes of a while, but his gaze is eventually met with troubled eyes. Jihoon does his best to resist the urge to reach out and touch him. “Everything okay?”

It’s a stupid question to ask, one he realizes only after he’s said it out loud. Everything is  _ not  _ okay, even if Daniel gives him another nod.

“You can talk to me, you know that right?” Jihoon tries again, hoping that he tosses the ball right this time. It’s not easy, he surmises, wanting to help out and yet fearing what comes out of his mouth at the same time.

“You can tell me anything and I’ll listen. I won’t judge you or throw you out of the truck or whatever.” He chuckles, cringing a little at his attempt at lightness. “I mean—you don’t have to be scared of what I think...is what I meant to say. So if there’s something bothering you...I can help, okay?”

It sounds weird; the words coming out of his mouth. It  _ feels _ weird too. Jihoon has never been one to face a problem head on and confront it like this, much less talk about it in a way that directly ties down with his feelings. Not that he hasn’t done so before, but he’s always regarded himself as the type to move past a tense situation by ignoring it until it normalizes itself. It’s weird how he can’t seem to do that at all when it comes to Daniel.

“I’m fine, Hoon,” He says suddenly, and Jihoon thinks he’s probably said the wrong thing again because he just got the wrong answer on top of the fakest looking smile he’s ever seen on the his face. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

He wants to fight more for it, tell him that he knows otherwise and that he genuinely wants to help him feel even a bit better. But his tongue turns to lead at the thought of saying the wrong thing again and the rest of his words die before it can even reach his mouth. Jihoon only nods then, turning back to face the road and switching off his blinkers before starting back on the drive.

It comes as a horrid realization then that talking to Daniel isn’t really like playing dodgeball like he originally thought it to be. Dodgeball is easy because that would mean he can see where he’s throwing and where he actively has to miss but in reality, he’s playing the game blind. He  _ can’t _ see where the ball goes when he throws it while at the same time, it feels like he’s playing in a field of broken glass that even if he were to intentionally miss hitting Daniel, there’s no guarantee he won’t get him to step on something that can still hurt him. 

The silence stretches for the rest of the day, and Jihoon is left to live and suffocate in the air of his own helplessness.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Daniel doesn’t make a sound nor a peep of anything for an entire day but when he finally does, Jihoon almost misses it. 

They’ve been driving out of the highway since the afternoon and have been travelling on dirt on the navigational app’s insistence that it’s the best route to take to get to the next highway. It’s not such a terrible feat in itself, especially since it’s not the first time Jihoon’s gone into ‘wilder’ roads, but the fact that it had been raining all afternoon turns the favors largely against their side. The sun had eventually set on them, and Jihoon had decided to just continue in the morning instead of groping the muddy, dark fields with only his headlights and a digital dashboard map on.

They’re parked out on the field for the night with the rain steadily drumming on the windshield and the roof of the truck, white noise that Jihoon has long since learned to appreciate and get used to by now. He’s already half asleep—tired from pretty much driving all day along with the stifling silence in the car—when a soft, raspy voice pierces through the darkness to call out his attention. 

“Jihoon?”

The mix of pattering rain almost drowns out the call and he nearly labels the sound as part of a coming dream. It’s only at the second instance that he finally opens his eyes to listen.

“Are you awake? I, umm...have something to tell you.”

Suddenly sleep is pushed back to the far end of priorities in his mind as he hones in on the voice coming from the backseat of the truck. He adjusts his place on his seat, letting Daniel know that he’s awake before answering him.

“Yeah, I’m still awake. What’s up?”

There’s a long pause where only the white noise around them breaks the sound barrier and the void of silence. Jihoon doesn’t want to turn around and look, nor does he want to repeat himself lest he’s actually mistaking his assumptions, but the stretch lasts long enough that he almost starts to think that he’s really just imagining the whole thing and that he’s probably already asleep himself. The sound of movement from behind is the only thing that assures him otherwise.

“I have a confession to make...about something I said to you before,” Daniel finally says, voice surprisingly full of conviction and yet weak around the edges. “That day when you first ran into me...at that bridge. I, umm—lied...about what I was doing there.”

The pause after goes on longer this time, giving Jihoon a bit of time to think back to the day Daniel’s pertaining to. He’s already asked him this—twice, even—and all he got then were averted answers in obvious discomfort. It scares Jihoon a little, and flatters him at the same time, that he’s finally getting an answer now without even having to ask.

“I wasn’t really travelling...nor was I lost and checking for directions when you found me,” Daniel continues, his voice slightly wavering but otherwise clear enough to be heard. “I knew where I was going at the time. Maybe not specifically but...I knew where I was going to end up anyway.”

Jihoon frowns a little at that, an involuntary dip pushing between his brows in confusion. There’s a weight forming in the air inside the truck, and he doesn’t like the feeling it’s giving off. “What do you mean?”

Daniel sighs, loud and heavy that as if the breath itself is cause for something so monumentally burdensome. “I mean—the reason I went out on the road that day without any money, or my phone...or anything else besides the clothes I was wearing was because—” His voice cracks a little, words choking up for a second before he finds it in him to continue again.

“—because I had no intention of going anywhere else after. For good.”

It doesn’t immediately register in Jihoon’s wall of comprehension—which is pretty acceptable considering he was already half asleep just a few minutes ago—but when it does, the breath in his lungs goes frigid and the weight of a thousand boulders suddenly crumble all the way down to pool in his gut. If he wasn’t already fully awake before then he’s gravely woken up now over the implication he just heard, and suddenly the last thing he wants is to know the answer to the question he’s long been asking.

But is he really surprised? He feels like the shock has frozen his entire body to a screeching halt on the tracks but really, it feels more like it comes from the admittance itself rather than what’s actually been admitted. At the back of his mind, he knows that he’s already seen this coming. The look on Daniel’s face when he first offered him a ride out of the rain, the way he behaved when he drove him to town and proceeded to invite him to his motel room that same night. His disturbing lack of funds and basic living necessities as an adult outside of a major city, his aversion to answering this very question from the beginning, and that whole conversation they had under the stars last night. Jihoon had already deduced as much in his head and he  _ knows _ in himself what Daniel was doing there when he found him. He just didn’t want to believe it.

“Why?” The question leaves his mouth even before he can even bring up the thought to stop himself, and he immediately regrets doing so in fear of the answer he might get. But Daniel doesn’t give him one, even long after the pause marks up a little too long and he’s already counted five empty minutes in his head. Jihoon soon realizes that it’s a stupid question to ask, and one that doesn’t really have an answer to.

“Why didn’t you then? I mean...what stopped you?” He changes the query, figuring that it doesn’t entail as much ambiguity as opposed to the alternative. He hears sounds of shifting from behind him this time and is shortly met with a surprise when he looks at the rearview mirror. Daniel’s sitting up now and staring at him, small eyes meeting his own through the reflection in a quiet gaze.

“I guess I’m just too much of a coward,” he answers after a while with a soft, defeated chuckle, his tone as broken as the raindrops pounding on the glass. “Even at the end of the line, I couldn’t push through with a decision I made for myself. People have always said that I’m never consistent with anything I do...and maybe a part of that is true because—well...look at me. I’m nothing but a coward who can’t even stick to his own words.”

The way Daniel says that last bit echoes so much raw honesty that Jihoon can physically feel a stab of pain for him. It’s one thing to have other people formulate thoughts against you, but an entirely different thing when you start putting them atop yourself. This, he realizes vaguely, is what’s really underneath all the walls of ice around him. The smiling Daniel he’s been wanting to bring out more of, and the Daniel he saw crying beneath the stars that night; neither of them are a walled-up pretense over the other. It’s the same person, two facets of a complicated persona.

“I don’t think it’s cowardly,” Jihoon says without hesitation, still looking at his reflection through the mirror. His words get him to look up, at least enough for their eyes to meet again. “I don’t know about being consistent with a decision and all, but I don’t believe that there’s anything cowardly about choosing to live. If anything, I think it’s actually the opposite. Finding yourself standing on the end of the line and still choosing to live through whatever that made you go there in the first place? That’s bravery.”

Jihoon isn't entirely sure due to the limited light, but he thinks he sees the glints of Daniel’s tears sliding down his cheeks through his reflection. His guess is proven right a few seconds later when he hears him holding back a small sniff in the same moment he wipes his face with the back of his hand. The sour feeling in Jihoon's gut is back, the putrid helplessness from being so close yet only able to watch. What’s unexpected though is that after Daniel’s done wiping his face, Jihoon then sees a glint of white through the mirror; a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head and even chuckling a little. “I always end up sounding so depressed around you. I’m sorry if I'm always being a burden.”

“You’re not.” The answer comes automatically—sounding a tad bit annoyed because frankly, he’s tired of this false narrative—Daniel thinking that he’s ever been a trouble for him when he’s not. 

“I told you that you can tell me anything, remember? And by that I don’t just mean all the good things, but the not-so-good things too,” Jihoon continues, his gaze never once leaving him. “Sure I’d prefer it when you’re talking like a kid and telling me stories about your cats, or your random fixation on smelling your food before you eat them—” He snorts out a small laugh. It comes out light this time, natural. “—but that doesn’t mean I mind hearing all the heavy stuff too. You don’t have to worry about it bothering me because...I  _ care  _ about what you have to say."

The face Daniel makes afterwards as the words float and set in the air around them is one that Jihoon has only seen a couple of times before. The most recent occasion would probably be back at the camera shop when the owner had ever so casually implied about them being a couple. It's too dark to tell whether he's blushing now, but the expression on his face isn't too far off.

"That goes the same for me too," Daniel says, shy and yet undoubtful in his sincerity. "I mean—I care about you too and...umm—you can also tell me anything."

Jihoon tries his best not to let that flutter in his stomach but a small part in him still manages to flip over a somersault over the implied nuance. It's an invitation to open up as anything, and strangely enough—whether it's because Daniel just dropped a bomb on him or if it's the nature of their conversation right now—Jihoon finds himself all too willing to share.

"I guess I haven't exactly told you a lot about me, huh?"

He sees Daniel shaking his head in the mirror, a small, smug smile gracing his lips as he sniffs away whatever bit of tears he has left. "I know that you like less water on your ramen, and that you have three tiny moles on your lips," he says, much to Jihoon's humiliating surprise. "I also know that you have this cute little habit you do with your hands when you're excited about something, like whenever you tell me about all the times you thought you saw an alien UFO while you're out driving—"

"Hey! I  _ know _ I saw them! And who do you think you're calling 'little and cute' mister spongebob teeth?"

Daniel laughs at that, in that breathless-sounding way that breaks off at the end only to start back up again repeatedly. It's kind of a twisted thought, but Jihoon is kind of winded on how their conversation had shifted from talks of jumping off a bridge, to Daniel listing down stuff he doesn’t even give a second thought about himself.

"Oh, and I also know that you're filthy rich," he continues when he's recovered from his bout, sounding a little smug again. "Although I haven't really figured out yet  _ why _ you're rich. But right now I'm contemplating between world class super model, or son of mafia boss."

Jihoon squeaks out a breathy laugh, only half-muted by the beating rain. “Close but, not exactly.” He lets his smile die down a little first, basking in the last few seconds of lightness in the air around him before he looms back over to seriousness. “I’m a chaebol.”

As normal as that statement is to himself, the opposite seems to be the case for Daniel when Jihoon can clearly see his eyes widening in surprise.

“Really?” He says, his disbelief apparent.

“Is it really easier for you to believe if I’m the son of a mafia boss than a boring chaebol?”

“Well—kinda.” Daniel admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I always thought chaebols were like, arrogant and cocky and entitled. But you’re hardly any of that—you’re like, really cool and kind and way too selfless to be one.”

“Um, thanks?” Jihoon finds himself laughing a little, shaking his head at Daniel’s innocence. “But not everything you watch in dramas is true to life, you know. And while I appreciate the compliments, I wouldn’t exactly call myself as someone selfless.”

There's the sound of movement coming from behind again, when Daniel raises both his legs up on the seat to cross them under himself. “How come?”

"Well...for starters, I'm not even really supposed to be out here. Technically speaking." Jihoon snorts a little, hating how he can taste even just a small amount of bitterness on his tongue. "I have a lot of responsibilities, and I'm supposed to be running a multi-billion company right about now—and yet here I am in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a pick-up and seemingly living without a care in the world.” 

He clamps his mouth shut lest he goes off on a tirade that ends up sounding like a brat’s pathetic whining. How long has it been? Jihoon doesn’t want to spare too much thought on the matter but it feels like it’s been a long five months more or less since he left the city and went out on this cross-country trip. Five months and he still gets this riled up sourness at the base of his stomach at the thought of what his life has become.

“Why are you out here in the first place then?” Daniel asks, the question pulling him back to where he is. It just occurs to him that he’s never really once answered that before, and being asked about it now is drawing up a blank. He looks back up in the mirror and meets small eyes of patience and curiosity, and in an instant he feels the words flowing freely out of his mouth.

“I guess I just wanted to do something different,” he says, the vagueness of his answer egging him to go on. “My life has always been...kind of set for me. It’s like from the moment I was born, the road I’m supposed to travel had already been paved straight and I’m supposed to just follow the entire course without veering in any other direction.” He sighs a little, thinking back to the stark difference of his lifestyle then and now. “And that’s exactly what I did—what I've always done—I followed. I became the person who my parents wanted me to be, I did what everyone expected me to do, and I worked hard to live up to everything that’s been laid out for me. I’m privileged and extremely fortunate, and while I do have my fair share of struggles and hardships, for the most part I still lived a pretty decent life—even if it’s one that I didn’t have much of a say on.”

Jihoon takes a brief pause to let the words linger in the air a little. Like for Daniel, this is the first time he’s hearing his own thoughts out of his mouth. He doesn’t really know what to feel about it yet.

“Everything about me was fine, to be honest, and I didn’t really have much to complain or gripe about either. Well...that is until my parents died.” The fact comes out heavy, bringing back the same putrid air from earlier and thickening the atmosphere inside their closed space. Jihoon tries to breath some of it in without suffocating himself. “They got into an accident a couple of months ago and...I guess you can say that my life pretty much changed after that.”

Instinctively, Jihoon turns his gaze away from the reflection of eyes staring at him in an unchanging habit of refusing to see and receive any sort of sympathy over the matter. He bites his lips, glad at least when Daniel just maintains his silence and waits for him to continue.

“Besides suddenly being appointed as the next CEO of the company, my parents’ death sort of shifted my whole perspective about everything because...I couldn’t really understand the whole point of it anymore. Everything they worked so hard for, for themselves and for me—if they were just going to die and leave the way they did then...what was it all for?” Jihoon asks the windshield, barely aware that his voice has gone so low that it almost sounds like a whisper. “I didn’t want to live like that. I didn’t want to continue living like I had no control over my life. We run so fast and work so hard. We fail and succeed and walk down our roads until we eventually die too. And for what?”

Jihoon leans back, resting his head against his seat and closing his eyes. It’s somewhat cathartic saying everything he’s said out loud like that, seeing as he’s never once told any of this to anyone before. At the same time though, he’s coming to realize a few things about his philosophies as well, putting to light small realizations about the decisions he’d made up until now.

“A lot of people in the company board think I’m selfish for even wanting to go out on this trip. Some are probably even saying that I’m not even fit to run the company at all, and that I’m just using my parents’ death as an excuse to hightail it out of there with all their money in tow.” He lets out a dark chuckle, letting the sound of it mix with the weighted air inside the cabin. “I never really told anyone the reason why I left. Mostly I’ve been giving everyone, including myself, the excuse that I just wanted some time alone—that I wanted to live my life for a while the way  _ I _ want to before I go back. It’s only until recently that I’ve started thinking if that’s even truly the case or…”

He trails off, the ghost of his words echoing in his mind. He slowly opens his eyes and only now sees Daniel’s gaze in the mirror again. He can’t really read his expression right now, but the way his small eyes hold his own somehow brings a small wash of comfort to him. 

“Maybe I  _ am  _ selfish,” he continues, this time saying the words to him, unfiltered and honest. “Maybe I’m just giving excuses for myself when really...all I’m doing is running away.” He shakes his head in dejection. Saying that statement out loud just makes it feel even more true. “I left the city a week after my parents’ funeral, you know. And I left the company in the hands of our family’s manager for the meantime. I was that eager to get away from it all.”

Jihoon closes his eyes again, takes a couple of deep breaths to get himself out of whatever pit he feels himself falling into. When he’s finally done speaking, the silence in the truck implodes on them again and the seemingly endless downpour outside takes up much of the emptiness. It’s a lot to swallow, Jihoon knows, and he’s not entirely sure if even sharing all that had been the right call especially when Daniel's also carrying his own—and probably heavier—baggage.

His worries are put to rest, however, when he hears movement from the back again. This time he's met with a bigger surprise when there's a sudden intrusion of long limbs and a bush of brown hair coming in from his side as Daniel attempts to move to the passenger's seat. 

"What are you doing?"

There’s a muffled thump from the ceiling and a quiet mutter of a curse flying out in a hushed voice but is otherwise ignored. He gets settled eventually after a bit of effort, bringing to Jihoon's attention just how  _ large _ a person Daniel is with his little stunt. “I want you to look at me properly when I tell you this,” he says with a strange yet strong sense of conviction, looking sort of like a determined puppy.

“Jihoon, I can say without a single doubt in my mind that you are  _ the  _ most unselfish person I have ever met in my life.” Daniel continues, saying each word with pointed seriousness that Jihoon can’t help but be transfixed to silence. “You literally picked me up—a total stranger—off the side of the road just because I was getting rained on. You offered me a place to sleep on the same night even when you didn’t have to, and you’ve been keeping me alive this entire time without even asking for anything in return.”

That last bit echoes of something different in meaning that Jihoon can’t quite comprehend. He can’t and doesn’t dwell on it too much because everything else Daniel is telling him now is causing something in his stomach to flutter along with the sudden warmth blooming in his chest. 

“I’m not really one to say things about running away from your problems because...well—I’m not really any better,” Daniel goes on, the slight sheepishness in his tone passing off undeterred. “But I know that you’re a good person, and that you’re humble, and kind, and caring. And if you or anybody else calls you selfish, then every person in the whole damn world should be ashamed of themselves for being lower than what you are.”

There’s a sort of fire in Daniel’s eyes that even in the near pitch-black surroundings becomes all too visible and bright. A lump forms in Jihoon’s throat at the presence of it, and he’s completely swept away by how sincere he’s being in just how much he believes in him. 

“And...if anyone is selfish here then it’s me,” Daniel continues, the sudden softness in his tone a stark difference from how he sounded earlier. “Because I’m glad that you left your company. I’m glad that you dropped everything and came on this trip because—” He pauses, and his once fierce gaze turns into something more gentle and shy. “—because if you hadn’t, then...I never would’ve met you.”

A cataclysmic phenomenon then happens to the cells in Jihoon’s body, igniting every single one of his nerves into hyperdrive while at the same time ceasing all his bodily functions in favor of making his heart pump a hundred beats per minute. He seems to have momentarily forgotten the ability of speech and just lamely stares at Daniel as his brain tries to process the words that just came out of his mouth. His neck feels hot and so do his ears, and it takes an insane amount of effort just to even be aware that his mouth is stupidly hanging open.

“You say that as if meeting me is some kind of extraordinary thing.” Jihoon snorts, reverting back to his sardonic coping mechanism and hoping his little blunder goes unnoticed. 

“It is though,” Daniel says in a heartbeat, his candor unchanging. “At least, to me it is.”

He gives him a long look again, to which Jihoon inadvertently shies away from because he’s certain that his chest might just explode if he stares back too long. “You’re giving me too much credit. I’m not special, Daniel.”

“Yeah well, so is the big dipper, right?”

That ultimately catches his attention, and Jihoon looks back over to see a wanton smile on Daniel’s face—spreading warmth all the way to his bones even in the raining, cold darkness.

“The big dipper isn’t inherently exciting, and it’s basically just a pretty sight to look at.” Daniel repeats his words from the previous night, a ghost of a chuckle escaping through his nose while his shoulders shrugging in nonchalance. “What makes it special though is what it can point you to.”

Jihoon has nothing to say to that, and at this point he’s all but lost count of how many times Daniel has rendered him speechless in one night alone. He looks away again, fearing that this time his heart  _ will _ combust if he keeps holding onto his gaze. 

“I guess we should call it a night then,” Daniel says lightly, cutting the weird and tingly tension in the air with a small laugh. “I’ve bothered you enough as it is. Sorry”

The eye roll Jihoon feels coming couldn’t have been more immediate. “Daniel—”

“I meant for keeping you up tonight,” he says with a knowing smile, and the laugh that follows right after tells Jihoon that he has nothing to worry about there. Daniel makes to shift back and shimmy his way to the backseat in the next moment, and maybe he’s really just feeling out of it because Jihoon doesn’t think twice in keeping him in place with a hand on his arm.

“You should just sleep there,” he says, and feeling like the statement lacks any sort of weight, he adds it up with, “It’s, umm—better for your back.”

It gets him an innocent look of confused hesitation, but Jihoon can’t honestly think of something else to say to hide the fact that what he really means by the statement is that he wants him to sleep next to him. Whether Daniel gets the hint or just agrees with his advice, Jihoon will never really know but is glad nonetheless when he nods and settles back down. Their seats recline to one-eighty a few seconds later, both staring at the ceiling of the truck’s interior while the sound of pattering rain brings in the vestiges of sleep.

“Goodnight, Hoon.”Daniel’s voice rings out in finality, and no sooner does Jihoon hear the familiar sounds of his companion’s breathing pattern when he’s fallen asleep. 

He takes this opportunity to turn his head to the side and take a glance at him again, privy to the view by himself with nothing to be shy about. His heart still manages to pick up a little even when Daniel isn’t really staring back at him, but instead of drawing back on the sensation like he always does, this time he embraces it.

The realization comes soon after, of what exactly this weird, tender feeling he feels racing through his veins is. He guesses that he’s always kind of known, but everything they’ve talked about tonight has finally put the final nail in the coffin, solidifying the theory into concrete reality.

If things were normal—in that the circumstances of their paths were different from how it is now—Jihoon would probably attribute this strangeness to actually growing feelings for the overgrown puppy sleeping beside him. Ironically though, admitting to himself that he’s growing such feelings is about as ridiculous as the situation they’re in now themselves. Jihoon isn’t really sure, and the lazy arms of slumber creeping at the back of his mind is keeping him from analyzing it further.

What he  _ is _ sure of though is that he cares for this person he’s gotten to know and be with for the better part of a short two months and that he doesn’t regret any second of it. As broken and fragile, inconsistent and sometimes hard to understand Daniel is, the strong urge to protect him and stay by his side wins above any other feeling he can even think of at the moment. And for now that conclusion is enough, and he finds himself making a wish again to the unseen stars tonight that he can be the strong person he wants to be for Daniel.

“Goodnight...Niel.” Jihoon whispers to the darkness, right before his eyes close and he joins him in sleep.


	5. Even Stars Cast Shadows Too

There’s a sort of imperceptible shift in Jihoon and Daniel’s relationship after that rainy night on the fields; a shift in the sense that Jihoon can literally feel on a physical level that a huge chunk of the wall he’s been trying to chip away at for the past two months is simply no longer there anymore. He’s finally broken through to the center, finally gazing at the warm and troubled enigma that is Daniel’s true self.

It’s barely noticeable and hardly anything to be perplexed about, because Jihoon soon realizes that there isn’t really that much of a difference to _this_ Daniel as compared to the one he’s been around with for a while now. Probably the most bewildering thing about the whole situation is actually finding out that he’d already let down his walls for him a long time ago and he just didn’t realize it. And while it’s also true that there are still a few pieces of ice encasing certain parts he doesn’t know of him yet—like the fact that Daniel still hasn’t admitted himself of who he really is—Jihoon has deemed such information inconsequential with regards to their current dynamic. 

That’s not to say that he’s forgotten, but simply put that he neither really minds nor cares too much that he doesn’t know about _Kang Daniel_ . Because the person he’s gotten to know—the person who makes his heart race every time a smile is thrown at him when he animatedly talks about the most random of things—is _his_ Daniel. 

And he holds on to that, holds on to this version of the colorful stranger-turned-companion-turned-friend, in a way that he’s never done or experienced before in any kind of relationship he’s formed with another person. If before it was only Daniel who’d been a little touchy and close whenever any sort of contact is initiated between them, Jihoon strangely finds himself doing and even sometimes instigating much of the same actions deliberately as well. 

“Can we open another pack?” Daniel asks him from his place on the flatbed, which is about a literal foot away from where Jihoon’s lying down right next to him. 

“You just finished an entire one ten minutes ago, plus that half a pack you were munching on last night,” Jihoon answers, amusement lacing his tone.

“Yeah but we were sharing that. You ate just as much as I did so that just counts my total intake to one whole pack.”

“It’s only four PM. We had lunch like, two hours ago.”

“And dinner is still another two or three hours from now.”

Jihoon lets out a chuckle then, especially when he turns to his side and sees the smallest of pouts on Daniel’s lips as he stares up at the bright afternoon sky. 

“Tell you what, I’ll open one but you can only eat half now and then the other half tonight after dinner. Deal?” It’s funny, Jihoon thinks, how they’ve degenerated to bickering over sweets like nine year olds. He reaches over above his head for the bag they keep their snacks in and opens the fresh pack of gummy bears after Daniel agrees and nods to his conditions. Instead of handing him the package where his hands await them, however, Jihoon goes back to lying down next to him and reaches over to directly feed a bear to his mouth.

“Just making sure you don’t break your end of the deal,” he says, not minding how lame the excuse is for simply wanting to feed him himself. It doesn’t help his shamelessness one bit when Daniel doesn’t even bat an eye and just takes the bear from Jihoon’s fingers, lips touching skin and all.

“I think I’ve probably gained more pounds in the last two months alone than I’ve ever had my entire life,” Daniel says as he chews, a smile to his words.

“Wow, and you’re really just considering that now after coercing me to open this for you.” 

“Hey, I didn’t _coerce_ you.” Daniel grins, right after taking the second gummy bear Jihoon puts up to his mouth for him. “I simply asked. And you were just too weak to say no to my charms—ow!”

Jihoon laughs, admiring the slight pinking on Daniel’s arm where he landed a playful backhanded slap. “You were saying?”

Daniel just returns the laughter, deliberately making sure to slick his fingers with a little spit when he takes his next gummy. Jihoon just rolls his eyes, forcing down the heat he feels erupting from the base of his neck. Thankfully Daniel seems too distracted to notice anyway when his idle hands reach out for his camera; pointing the lens up and snapping a photo of the clouds in the sky above them.

“Oh, by the way. I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he suddenly says, and reaches over to his side to take out the stack of photos they’d previously gotten processed. He shuffles through them, and Jihoon can see all the photos of him that Daniel took in the course of two months. There’s too many for him to count.

“Ah, this one.” He pulls out one midway through the end of the entire stack, a scenic photo that’s prominently blue and white all over—it’s the sea.

“I assumed you were the one who took this. This was from the first film roll inside the camera, the one that was already half-used when you first lent it to me.”

Jihoon eyes the photo in Daniel’s hand, nodding when the memory of the image flashes back in his mind. “Yeah, I remember. That was one of the first few places I passed by when I first set out.”

“Oh. Do you remember where this was then?”

“Hmm, not really.” Jihoon mumbles, absentmindedly picking up another gummy bear and bringing it to Daniel’s mouth. “It was just some random beach though. It wasn’t a popular place or whatever. Why?”

Daniel only hums in passing, holding up the photo more and putting it up on their view of the sky. The blend of the blues are almost seamless. 

“My hometown was near the sea, and I grew up basically with sand in my hair and dried salt on my shoes.” Daniel chuckles a little, the fondness seeping out of him. “I haven’t been back home for a while though. I mean, not including being out on this trip with you. I stay in the city and, well...I guess I just kinda miss the sea.”

Jihoon regards him at that, his eyes moving between the photo held above them and then to Daniel. The next words out of his mouth then are completely impulsive yet sincere in every form.

“Let’s go to the sea then,” he says, his tone dripping with nonchalance.

“Are we even near one?” Daniel rounds on him, curious excitement making his eyebrows rise up in question. Jihoon just chuckles.

“I don’t know. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really look at the map that much,” he says, blinking back as Daniel holds his gaze. “But nowhere is too far anyway. And we probably won’t get there today or tomorrow, or even this week if that’s the case. But we’ll get there. Eventually.”

It takes a few seconds, but it puts a smile on Daniel’s face as he lies back down and admires the photo in his hand again. “Eventually.” He repeats in a soft whisper. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

And Jihoon has never really done it on this trip before—set a specific destination to actively go towards—but he takes a mental note for later to mark on the GPS map the nearest body of ocean they can get to just to fulfill Daniel’s wish.

Because that’s another thing that Jihoon realizes has changed in his relationship with Daniel. If before he simply wanted to bring out the side of him that smiled and laughed at the smallest of things, now it’s transcended into genuinely _wanting_ to make the other person happy. And whether it’s simply a side effect of knowing the kind of mental state Daniel is struggling with, Jihoon finds that this willful desire isn’t simply one-sided because making Daniel happy makes _him_ happy as well.

“Wow. I don’t even remember the last time I had bibimbap. That was amazing,” Daniel says with a satisfied pat to his belly. They had passed by a town as soon as they went back on the road after their little afternoon break from earlier and decided to eat at the home-style restaurant in the area on Daniel’s suggestion. “I’m glad you stopped me from finishing my gummy pack earlier. I had more space in my stomach for dinner just now.”

Jihoon snorts at that, stuffing both hands in his pocket as they stroll the sidewalk. The air is getting cooler every night, and he hunches himself over his coat even deeper. “Even if you ate every snack we have in the truck, I doubt that would’ve stopped you from ordering _two_ large bibimbap bowls tonight.”

When Daniel laughs, the sound of it carries over in the air around Jihoon and instantly makes him feel just a tad bit warmer. The hand that flies to playfully slap and stay over his shoulder helps too, if he’s being honest.

“Thank you,” Daniel says, hearty and sincere. He doesn't need to say why or what for when Jihoon just gives him a tight-lipped smile of understanding. 

"What do you think of staying here for the night?" Jihoon asks aloud after a while, not really facing him and just taking the casualness of their pace in stride. "I saw a motel earlier and it looked decent enough. Plus, I just realized that we haven't really stayed in a room the whole time we've been out on the road.”

He hears Daniel hum in thought, the hand that’s still over his shoulder fiddling with the fabric of his coat. “I don’t really mind camping out tonight but now that you mention it, I haven’t slept in an actual bed since going out on the road.” 

“That settles it then.” Jihoon nods. “Let’s head back to the truck so we can grab some of our stuff. Maybe we can even do some laundry tomorrow. You’re hoodie’s starting to stink.”

“Seriously?” Daniel stops in his pace and takes a long sniff out of his clothes while Jihoon just keeps walking. “You’re kidding right? I don’t stink that much—hey, Hoon! Wait up!”

The motel is a lot more decent than Jihoon had initially percepted, with the interiors leaning more towards the dark and modern aesthetic that leaves the place feeling sleek and cleaner than it actually probably is. They even offer a modest bed-and-breakfast package on their short menu list, boasting a hefty platter fit for the average traveller.

What matters the most to Jihoon though is probably the accommodations they’ll be staying at, and he’s pleased to see that the room they’re given doesn’t fall short on his standards. It isn’t really spacious by any means—with the feet of the two single beds only leaving a few inches of walk space between them and the wall—but the place looks and even _smells_ clean enough for him not to give it a second thought. 

“Do you want to shower first or should I?” He asks Daniel after he drops their bags on the only lazy chair by the corner of the room. One look at his friend and at how he’s already plopped himself face down on one of the beds gets Jihoon his answer before he’s even given one.

“You can go first,” he says, words muffled by the pillow smooshed over his face.

“Alright, but don’t fall asleep yet. You should at least take a bath before you do.”

“Yes _mom._ ”

Jihoon throws one of the pillows on his side over to him at that, eliciting a drowned yelp when it hits Daniel square on the back. He makes his way over to the small ensuite afterwards, and maybe it’s the warmth of the hot steady water cascading down his back—or that he hasn’t had a proper, actual bath in a legit bathroom in a while—but he somehow loses track of time in the shower as he lets the steam relax his muscles and the grime to fall off his body. In fact, the only reason he even wills himself to step out of the water trickling down his skin is due to the soft knocking on the door and the voice that follows after it.

“Hoon? Are you okay in there?”

He finally turns off the tap, wraps a towel over his waist and slicks his blonde locks back before opening the door. Daniel is on the other side, standing stock still as he stares down at him.

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon asks, noting the frozen, wide-eyed look Daniel is giving his dripping figure. He doesn’t get a response and instead, just more of the silent gaze that’s matched with his mouth hanging slightly open. 

“Hello? Earth to Daniel.” He snaps a finger near his face and almost immediately, Daniel jumps in surprise and only then looks at his face with attention.

“Ah—s-sorry.” He sutters, and maybe it’s the heat steaming off from the bathroom but Jihoon can see his ears turning pink. “Y-you were taking a while and umm—it’s, uhh, been an hour since you went in and—I just thought you might’ve s-slipped or something or—”

Jihoon doesn’t miss the way his small eyes flit down a little over his body again before he rapidly blinks and refocuses them back over his face while his ears turn a shade darker. Suddenly Jihoon understands the weird behavior.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I lost track of time,” he says, shamelessly moving both hands back up his head to slick his damp hair even further, deliberately choreographing the movement in such a way that his biceps flex in the act and show a little glimpse of his armpits. Daniel finally clamps down his hanging mouth, if only to swallow down a visible gulp. 

“Oh. Umm, okay. I’m, uhh—sorry for interrupting you then.”

“It’s fine, I was done anyway,” Jihoon says, not-so-absentmindedly running his hand over his still wet chest in an unnatural idle gesture. “Go take your turn. The water feels great.” He reaches over and charmingly pats Daniel’s shoulders, making him flinch a little before walking over to where he left his clothes. His dazed state lasts for a couple more seconds before he vigorously shakes his head to snap out of it and steps into the bathroom himself. Jihoon doesn’t hold back the laugh when the door shuts closed.

As light and playful as the situation had been flowing for pretty much the entire day for the both of them, Jihoon is aware that it’s not in any way a guarantee that the same lightness will continue to flow once the day starts drawing to a close. The awareness doesn’t help, however, and it’s precisely because it had been such a day filled with warm smiles and cheerful laughter is what makes the following shift all the more biting; when Daniel steps out of the bathroom roughly an hour and a half later, Jihoon can immediately tell that he’s sunken again.

He’s used to this—or rather, as used to it as he can get under the constraints of not really knowing the reasons for why this happens. Daniel doesn’t really tell him anything when it does and just devolves into the silent version of himself, and Jihoon has never really asked in fear of doing more harm than good and at best, just lets the moment fly over until he’s feeling fine again. He knows it’s not exactly the best way to approach the issue, not to mention that the overwhelming feeling of helplessness never fails to seize at him as well, but he can’t for the life of him think of anything else to do otherwise.

“So, tomorrow I was thinking maybe we can have brunch at the restaurant we just ate at earlier,” Jihoon says as Daniel shuffles over to his bed, going for casual and normalcy and hoping against all odds that it makes a difference. “I kinda want to try their kimchi jjigae. I saw another customer ordering it earlier and it looked amazing.”

If he was even ever hoping for a reaction, then the disappointment he feels is gravely weighted when Daniel doesn’t even seem to have heard him. He’s settling down under the comforters, staring at the wall across his bed.

“Daniel?”

“Hmm?” That snaps him out of whatever trance he’s under, turning his head to look at him. There’s a sharp pang on the left side of Jihoon’s chest when he immediately notices that the corners of Daniel’s eyes are slightly red. “S-sorry...did you say something?”

“Yeah, I was...just asking if you wanted to eat at the restaurant again. Tomorrow, before we drive out.”

“Oh.” Daniel nods, lips forming into a thin line and stretching into the fakest of smiles. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

It’s probably because Jihoon can tell that it’s fake that a sliver of annoyance worms its way into him, making him blurt out the words at the tip of his tongue without restraint. “Are you okay?”

The question comes out cold and harried, and he immediately regrets falling trap to his own feelings even before he sees the look of panicked surprise marring Daniel’s face when he does. 

“Y-yeah…” He mutters, flashing him another smile. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Jihoon hums, it being the only sound he can make as he bites the inside of his cheek. “You should get some rest then. I’ll shut the lights off.”

When the room is bathed in darkness and they’re both settled under the comforts of their own beds, Jihoon falls asleep that night to the sound of silence.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It’s probably true that the subconscious mind is a lot more powerful than a person can ever perceive, because Jihoon is sure that he _felt_ that something was wrong even before he opened his eyes in waking up the following morning. Sure enough there is, and he finds it easily just by turning his head to the side of the room where the other bed is.

It’s empty.

Jihoon sits up from the mattress and his eyes immediately scan the expanse of the room, noting with disturbing clarity that Daniel’s shoes aren’t at the front door from where they left them last night. He gets up from the bed the next second to check the bathroom, and maybe it’s kind of a cliche and stupid move that he barges inside without even knocking but he doesn’t really care enough to stop himself.

The bathroom is also empty.

“Daniel?” He calls out this time, his voice nearly echoing in the empty tiles of the bathroom when a response doesn’t come. He goes back into the room again, noticing next that the duffel bag they brought with them is also missing from the chair he left it on the night before..

“Shit.”

The panic starts flaring up, and Jihoon does his best to tamp it down and keep it in check as he hastily puts on his socks and shoes and exits the room. He’s aware that he’s wearing nothing but a white shirt and a flimsy pair of shorts but he couldn’t really care less at this point, taking the flight of stairs towards the ground level three steps at a time.

“Excuse me, miss? Did you happen to see a tall guy with brown hair and glasses come through here?” He asks the receptionist at the lobby when he gets there, barely tripping over his words in a rush. She only gives him a quick look and not even batting an eye at his disheveled state—probably used to seeing men run around the motel in much lesser articles of clothing—before shaking her head in apology.

“I’m sorry sir, but I just started my shift half an hour ago. And I didn’t see anyone leaving or entering the premises yet.”

Jihoon instinctively checks the time over at the wall clock behind the counter. It’s only ten minutes past eight, which means Daniel had probably been up well over an hour ago.

He races out of the main entrance then, biting his lips when the searing bite of the cold morning air hits him in an unforgiving breeze. The first place he rushes down to is all the way across the block where he parked the truck, immediately cursing in his head when even from a distance, he sees it void of any living souls. He still checks, peeking inside the window and taking a quick glance back over on the flatbed just to make sure. Everything seems untouched, and Jihoon's panic just rises up another bar.

It'd be faster and way more warmer to check all the possible places Daniel could've gone to by driving, but he only just realizes that he's left his keys and wallet back in their room in his haste to go out. This is turning into a nightmare, but he presses on at a light jog and willfully ignores the way his body is screaming for him to at least put some pants on.

The walk back to the restaurant from last night definitely didn't feel as long and laborious as it does now, and Jihoon swears he loses another year to his lifespan when he similarly doesn't find who he's looking for there. He's running out of ideas, and inching closer to acting like a total lunatic and yelling out Daniel's name on the streets.

Besides the gripping panic, there's an enormous thorn impaling his chest that's growing larger by the minute the more he thinks and replays their conversation from last night. Was Daniel already giving him hints? Was the sudden shift in his mood more serious than he thought? Did he say something wrong? The paranoia is unsettling and he can't help but hear his voice in his head echoing the last words he heard him say last night, of how he was tired and sounding so dejected.

Jihoon really doesn't want to go there, but his thoughts are acting on hyperdrive and is leading him to the darkest corners of his mind. Thinking of the worst thing Daniel could do to himself isn’t going to help and absolutely shouldn’t be at the forefront in his current state. 

He takes a breath, taking advantage of the chill to numb him of things he shouldn’t really be pouring a lot of energy to and just letting himself breathe for a moment. When he reaches a point that’s probably the calmest he can get in this situation, he ultimately decides to go back to the motel to grab his keys and work on looking for Daniel more systematically from there, preferably with warmer clothes on.

He’s walking back the same path he took minutes ago and as he turns the corner from where the parking lot joins the street of the restaurant, his heart freezes and flips a hundred times over when he sees a bush of brown hair and the familiar turquoise and yellow hoodie standing beside his truck. Jihoon doesn’t even hesitate, and couldn’t have dashed at a run faster than he did to crash his body against Daniel in a tight hug at the exact moment he turns around in his direction.

“J-Jihoo—?”

“Where the fuck were you?!”

The contrast to his actions versus his words must be jarring, when the shock painting Daniel’s face right then borders on the extreme as Jihoon pulls back to hold him at arm’s length.

“Um, I—”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Where the fuck did you go?!”

“I-I was just at the laundromat.” Daniel mutters in a shrunken voice, sounding a little spooked. Of all the answers Jihoon sas expecting to get, something as ridiculous as that is way beyond his list.

“What?”

Daniel just gives him a weak nod, apprehensive and completely alarmed. “I woke up early and…I thought I could get started on our laundry," he says, pointing to their shared duffel bag slung over his right shoulder. "I just finished and went back to our room but you weren’t there. When I asked around, the receptionist said you went out looking for me so I thought I’d stay here by the truck in case I run into you.”

"Are you being serious right now?"

Daniel only blinks at him, and it annoys Jihoon to the core that he's not even grasping the situation he's in. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Didn't what? Didn't even think to tell me?" Jihoon snaps, dropping his arms from his shoulders in an unnecessarily harsh jerk. "You didn't even bother to think about leaving a note in case I wake up and find you missing?”

Daniel’s mouth limply hangs open, words failing him under the heat. The logical part in Jihoon’s head—the one that’s currently being stomped on by his pressing worry and frustration—knows and is screaming for him to stop overreacting. But his head is still buzzing with thoughts swirling in a dark haze over his mind and he can’t control himself as much as he’d like to.

“Do you know that I was just on my way back to the room to get my keys so I can drive around and look for you? What would’ve happened if I didn’t run into here, huh? If I thought you had left and I drove out of town, what then?” The pent up tension in his gut is solidifying and coming out all at once, sharpening his tongue like a knife. 

“I...I’m sorry...I didn’t think—”

“Exactly, you didn’t _think._ I know it’s probably easy for you to just pack up and leave without caring about who you’re leaving behind but you could’ve at least had the decency to tell me.”

The jab is lower and completely uncalled for, and Jihoon only then manages to shut himself up when he sees the effect of what he said on Daniel’s face, sees it contorting into an expression of pure hurt. He’s crossed the line, rendering them both silent while the air between them thickens to a suffocating and frigid haze. Daniel looks down at his feet in shame, and Jihoon can see his eyes starting to glisten with unshed tears.

They stand there motionless for a minute or two, with nothing but the sounds of their awkward breathing to fill the space. Jihoon only brings himself to quit biting the inside of his cheek and actually make a move when the early morning chill starts creeping up on his bones again, effectively cooling off the steam in his head.

“I’ll go get the rest of our stuff in the room. Wait for me here or in the lobby,” he says in a tone that’s barely enough to be heard, not waiting for a response and walking the rest of the way back to the motel. He doesn’t waste time, grabbing everything Daniel didn’t already take with him and proceeding to check them out in the lobby. When he steps back out to the cold, he finds him still standing where he left minutes earlier—still looking at the ground and as motionless as a statue.

“Let’s go.” Jihoon prompts, unlocking the car with a muted beep before he gets in. Daniel doesn’t immediately follow but he eventually moves, loading their duffel bag in the back before strapping himself in.

Jihoon purposely drives past the restaurant they planned to eat brunch at and just heads to the town’s convenience store where he buys each of them a sandwich and a few onigiri rolls. He’s not petty, but he doesn’t really want to spend the next hour in a restaurant right now and he’s pretty sure Daniel probably shares the same sentiment—if the way he’s sitting stock-still and not even touching his share of the food is anything to go by.

It’s another silent day out on the road, and this time Jihoon has to fight it over with himself in trying to swallow the fact that he’s the one who caused it.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Hey.”

Daniel looks up at his call, marking the first time their eyes legitimately meet in the last twelve hours since leaving town earlier in the day. They’re swallowed up by darkness now, parked for the night at a makeshift camping ground formed from a small clearing of trees a little ways off the road. Only the electric outdoor lantern is providing light around them while they eat their usual dinner of instant ramen—or rather, while Jihoon eats. He’s stopped now, if only so he can point his chopsticks at Daniel.

“Eat up. Your food’s getting cold.” He doesn’t mean to sound too harsh, but his words come out even icier than the air around them. Regardless, Daniel still looks back down at his bowl and slowly proceeds to bring a few strands of noodles to his mouth without further qualm, slurping quietly.

The silence is starting to get a little jarring if Jihoon's being honest, and he can feel it edging closer to the limit of his sanity the longer it stretches. It feels a lot different now than earlier during the drive because there isn’t an engine running or the sounds of other cars in the highway to fill the void. Out here the quiet is deafening, completely blanketing him in tandem with the darkness. Daniel hasn't said anything all day, but then neither has he so it really shouldn't be that much of a surprise for him. He guesses he just doesn't like the fact that the situation right now is reminiscent of how things used to be between them—cold and barren.

Jihoon manages to hold out for an hour at most before he reaches an unbearable cusp sidled by his repressed guilt. He’s already finished eating, and he lets out an audible sigh as he puts his empty bowl down in front of him.

“Daniel.”

The name feels heavy on his tongue, but the feeling of strangeness is probably nothing compared to the surprise the other person must feel in hearing him say it. Daniel’s eyes are blown wide before he composes himself and nods to continue eating his already cold meal. Jihoon’s hand flies to his wrist then, gently stopping his motions and grabbing all his attention. Jihoon feels him jump and tense a little at the contact but he pays it no mind, only continuing when he can feel him easing up a little against his hold.

“I owe you an apology,” he says, and no sooner do the words come out of his mouth that Daniel immediately rebukes him.

“Jihoon—you don’t...you don’t have to—”

“I do,” He cuts him off, hard and torrid when he nods once and repeats himself. “I do, and I don’t want either of us going to sleep tonight without fixing this.”

He lets go of his wrist, putting his hands down over his lap and letting out another sigh before facing him again. “I was a jerk earlier. I completely overreacted and...said things that I shouldn't have. You were only trying to help, and even if I was acting on worry, that didn’t give me the right to go off on you like I did.” Jihoon bites his lips, letting his words float in the air for a while while he resists the urge to reach out. It’s a lot harder than it seems, and he takes it as a sort of punishment to himself for what he did. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

It’s a heavy phrase to say, but just as weighted as the words are in saying it out loud comes an equal feeling of lightness that consumes him afterwards. He didn’t even realize the extent of his guilt until now, glad that he’s finally rid some of it. The rest goes away not long after when he sees Daniel nodding at him in acceptance.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, voice low but not as anxious anymore. “I acted irresponsibly. I shouldn’t have gone out without telling you first.” He shakes his head a little, remorseful in every way. “I guess I just...didn’t think you’d worry about me too much.”

For some reason, that last bit somehow slightly grates more on Jihoon’s nerves than anything else. He doesn’t really know the expression his face makes when he hears it, but the way Daniel shrinks a little tells him that it’s probably not too pleasant a sight. And frankly, he doesn’t feel all too pleasant anyway either. He’s tired of Daniel thinking that he doesn’t even care enough about him when the case is exactly the opposite as he’s already implied time and time again.

“Can you be honest with me?” He finds himself saying, eliciting a surprised reaction that’s just slightly spooked.

“About what?”

Jihoon bites his tongue a little to think through his words and keep himself from blurting out any more hard phrases. The thought has been making rounds in his head for a while now and it’s not exactly the easiest thing to put out there. But as much as he doesn’t want to bring it up, he’s ultimately decided that he’d rather know than to keep living with the fear and apprehension in trying to dodge it.

“That day on the bridge...what you were trying to do before I met you. Have you ever...thought about doing it again?” He can’t even say it for what it is, and he doesn't know whether it’s a good thing that a look of understanding flashes across Daniel’s eyes in the few seconds after he’s asked.

As fast as the insight comes though, the answer falls short and practically misses all the beats in the spectrum of their conversation. Daniel has shrunken back to staring at his half-empty bowl of ramen with a troubled look on his face, bringing back the deafening silence from earlier. As strong as the sense of regret Jihoon feels in even asking though, he holds down his own fort and pushes through with his decision—even if it scares him a little.

“You don’t have to think too hard on it,” Jihoon says, mustering softness that greatly contrasts his words. “It’s just a yes or a no. I just want you to be honest here.”

“It’s not that simple,” Daniel whispers, and the sound of his voice is almost enough to shatter Jihoon’s resolve. “I don’t...I—it’s just—”

Jihoon breathes in patience, figuring that it’s the best thing he can do at this point when it’s obviously not an easy thing for Daniel to talk about. He uses the time to prepare himself for the answer he’s anticipating instead, swallowing the hard fact down just in case to lessen the blow.

“If you’re asking whether the thought is still in my mind—if _killing myself_ is still something that I’m considering—then the answer is yes,” Daniel says in a short burst, like a band-aid being ripped out in one go. “That hasn’t changed, and it’s never completely left my thoughts even long before I decided to finally act on it that day. It gets covered up with a lot of other things from time to time but...it’s always been at the back of my head. And to be honest, I don’t think it will ever truly go away.”

The lump grows in Jihoon’s throat at that, grotesquely inflating to the size of a fist that makes it impossible for him to breathe, move, or even think beyond the answer Daniel’s given him. His nails dig at the center of his palms and the incessant feeling of helplessness surges all the way to his chest. It’s suffocating.

“But...if you’re asking whether I thought about trying to do it again—” Daniel continues, breaking him from his internal turmoil. “—or more specifically, if I thought about _wanting_ to do it after meeting you...then the answer is no.”

Daniel finally looks up at him, meeting his eyes that drip with so much sincerity in them that whatever breath Jihoon even had left in his lungs is instantly knocked out of him. Not for the first time, he finds that his body has forgotten its ability for speech.

“I didn’t really want to tell you because...I was afraid of adding any more to the burden I already dumped on your plate,” Daniel continues in his silence, a ghost of a smile floating with his words. ”But seeing as the trouble I’m causing in making you worry is far greater, then...I guess it’s better if I come clean about it.”

Jihoon doesn’t completely understand what he means but he takes it in anyway, watches Daniel nod as if affirming himself of his own decisions.

“I lied again...about why I didn’t go through with killing myself that day. I was afraid, yes, but it wasn’t the biggest factor for why I backed out of doing it.” Daniel faces him again, in a way that he’s never done before in the time they’ve known each other. Jihoon can only hang onto his words, dissecting them in his brain by the syllable.

“I was going to. I was really about to jump and everything but...at the very last moment, I decided to pray and ask one last time for a sign to stop—a reason _not_ to go through with it, a reason to keep on fighting and living.” He pauses again, and the familiar habit of worrying his bottom lip with his buck tooth comes out in the passing seconds. Jihoon tries his best to stay on top of it all, but the anticipation has his heart pounding on the walls of his chest.

“I know this is going to sound really crazy, but...” Daniel continues, choosing to look him in the eye again as he does. “A few seconds after I asked for that sign...is when your truck broke down.”

The air stops moving, silencing the rustle of leaves and branches over their heads of their peaceful symphony. Even the song of the cicadas comes to a halt, matching the way Jihoon feels his heart stopping cold in his chest. It’s as if the whole world is listening, waiting, for Daniel to continue.

“I don’t know if I even really believe it for myself, to be honest,” he says, a light chuckle escaping his lips, his gaze on him unwavering. “But what I do believe is that...I’m here today because of you, Jihoon. When you offered me a ride out of the rain that day, you didn’t just save me from getting wet but you also saved me from doing something I could never undo. And when you asked me to come along with you on this trip, you’ve kept me alive in more ways than simply making sure I had food in my stomach and a roof over my head.” 

It’s much too overwhelming hearing Daniel say all that, and it leaves Jihoon completely stupefied with a hundred different emotions coursing through his body. He's elated to know that Daniel isn’t actively thinking of taking his own life anymore, while at the same time encumbered in knowing that he himself had a hand on why that’s even the case in the first place. He feels a little jolted with the unintentional pedestal he’s been placed into just as much as he is flattered by it. 

“I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you,” Daniel says, and Jihoon only snaps back into awareness to see that he’s sporting a worried look now. “I don’t want to be a burden but...at the same time—I just wanted you to know—”

And maybe the feelings are far too overwhelming and far too great for him to control at this point—or maybe Jihoon is just plain tired of hearing Daniel belittle and label himself into someone so troublesome—but the next thing he does is driven purely by instinct as an outlet to his rampant feelings and to simultaneously shut the other man up that he doesn’t even give himself the time to think when he closes the gap between them and crashes his lips against Daniel’s.

It’s quick and abrupt and much too sloppy to even feel anything in depth, and the spark that ignites at the contact of their skin only fizzles big enough to snap Jihoon out of whatever spell he was under to pull himself away not even two seconds later. Daniel’s eyes are blown to a comically huge proportion, and he feels his own not being any different. 

They stare at each other for what feels like eons, and the wild, fluttering emotions Jihoon had been trying to rope earlier is now morphing into something less pleasing. The fear and dread are the first ones to make themselves known, amplifying his perception in trying to find visual cues of disapproval in Daniel’s expression. He can’t read him, and soon after comes the regret and the guilt worming their way in to cast a vice on his heart. Of all the lines he’s ever crossed, this was by far the worst one yet.

“D-Daniel. I—”

His attempt for some damage control is cut short when he feels a gentle hand slowly snaking up the underside of his right jaw, and it’s amidst the haze of panic that he sees the most unexpected shift in Daniel’s demeanor. The expression on his face doesn’t immediately register to Jihoon’s wall of comprehension, but there’s no mistaking that his small pair of eyes are locked onto his lips. It doesn't take much more time before he's leaning in, capturing his mouth again in a second kiss.

It's a lot gentler this time, calmer but with a subtle kind of heat just beneath the surface of the gesture that has Jihoon’s eyes closing in an instant. Daniel's lips are soft and graceful, moving against his own ever so slightly but with evident and deliberate purpose. He can feel him being careful about it, just slightly erring on the side of hesitation like he usually is in everything he does. And it’s only when Jihoon opens his lips midway that another shift takes place and he’s taken on a whole different high.

The measly spark from earlier now blazes into a roaring wildfire when both of Daniel’s hands grab and hold both sides of his face as he leans in more into him, kissing him deeper and with much more fervor than he could ever dare to anticipate. It’s completely intoxicating; the way Daniel's mouth slides and pulls at his lips, running in sync with the sharp intake of breath that passes through his nose, and deliriously melting his mind with every flick and dart of his tongue. Jihoon feels like he’s on fire but instead of succumbing to the blaze, he embraces it—kissing Daniel back with the same ferocity and ardor.

It’s as if they’re catching up for lost time when they get lost in each other’s embrace, because it’s a long while before they both finally break their contact and pull away from each other—much later than what could possibly be considered an acceptable amount of time for a first kiss. The woods are once again alive with the songs of cicadas and the rustle of trees, and they’re lying side by side on the flatbed in mute comfort facing each other with only a couple of inches of space separating them. Jihoon feels dazed and just a little lightheaded from it all, and it doesn’t help that Daniel currently has one hand on his face caressing his cheeks and tucking his overgrown blonde hair behind his ear; fingers travelling the line of his jaw to his chin, coming to stop and touch his lips.

“What are you doing?” Jihoon asks in casual lightness, the movement of his mouth not even budging Daniel’s fingers away in the slightest. He gets a soft chuckle in response, and the smallest flash of white when the corner of his buck tooth shows through his smile.

“I can’t believe it,” he says in bewilderment, just as easily as his thumb and forefinger go to the inner-underside of Jihoon’s upper lip to point out his observation. “You have a fourth mole.”

He couldn’t have fought to keep the heat he feels spreading across his cheeks right then even if he tried, taking comfort instead on the fact that—and he just realizes this with startling clarity—he doesn’t really need to anymore.

“What is it with you and my moles?” He chuckles along too, his natural mechanism to battle his bashfulness coming out in waves of sarcasm. 

“It’s cute. I like your moles.” Daniel smiles, the confession so honest that it just gets Jihoon’s ears to a soldering level. He retaliates by kissing his thumb then, resulting in the same shy expression to come across Daniel’s features.

It would normally be unnoticeable, even with Jihoon's inherent perception about these things. But because he's literally only a few inches away and currently staring right at him, he doesn't miss the sliver of—is it hesitation? Doubt?—mixing with the sheepishness on his face.

"What's on your mind?" Jihoon asks, voicing out the primary question that always wants to escape him whenever he's talking to Daniel. It's strangely satisfying to finally be able to ask that without needing to stay on his toes.

When Daniel shakes his head with a loose smile, the brazenness Jihoon is feeling only intensifies and he lands a playful punch on his arm with a small whine. "Tell me."

He merely gets an airy chuckle, but he doesn't think it's a total loss when Daniel's smile grows to a grin. "You first," he says, equally mischievous in tone.

Jihoon hums in thought, shifting his body a little and involuntarily scooching closer to him. He throws out the first thing his mind latches onto, not even slightly ashamed when he says, “I can’t believe I kissed you. But...I think I’m more stunned over the fact that you kissed me back.”

Even in the limited light of the electric lantern, he can see the subtle flushing of Daniel’s skin when he hears him say that; the way he purses his lips into a tight, shy smile when he raises his eyebrows in a silent question of why.

“I guess I just...wasn’t expecting this to happen,” Jihoon says with a shrug, sounding nonchalant and just a little too stricken. “I’m glad it did, though. I’ve...kinda wanted to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” Daniel asks, the surprise evident in his widened eyes.

“Yeah. I just, umm...didn’t think you’d want to do it too.”

The hand that’s still lingering on his face and fondly caressing the outline of his lips starts to move again, drawing indecipherable lines across the surface of his skin. Daniel’s hand is warm, and every stroke of his thumb is sending tiny bolts of electricity to his nerves.

“Your turn,” Jihoon says, reminding him to hold up his end of the bargain. Daniel doesn’t answer right away and pulls back his hand for a moment, the sudden loss of his touch instantly making his cheek cold.

“I’m still trying to figure out whether all of this is real or just a dream,” Daniel answers after a while, his tone ragged and serious despite the context of his words. And even though there’s a smile on his face as he says that, there’s no mistaking the pensiveness in his meaning. 

“How come?”

He gets a pause and a small shrug, and when Daniel talks again his voice similarly echoes of self-doubt. “I just...don’t understand what you could possibly see in me. I mean, you’re this really kind and selfless and amazing person, while I’m just…” He trails off, his lips clamping shut in an old habit.

The answer is so honest and vulnerable that Jihoon doesn’t even think twice when he reaches over and wraps a hand over one of Daniel’s. It gives him a boost of courage when he doesn’t flinch or pull back this time, egging on his thoughts on the matter to come unfiltered. He has so much to say contrary to his statement but he holds his tongue, ultimately deciding to go a different route.

“You probably won’t even believe me if I tell you all the things I like about you,” Jihoon starts, using his thumb to draw circles on Daniel’s palm. “But I can say that I care about you. A lot. And that being around you is probably the happiest I've ever been in a long time. Whether or not a reason even needs to exist to justify that...then I don't really care."

There’s a small upturn on the corners of Daniel’s lips at least, but the trepidation in his eyes and tone still lingers. “I feel like I don’t deserve someone like you. Or rather, you deserve someone better. Someone strong and less of a burden than I am.”

Jihoon sighs, letting go of his hold on Daniel’s hand to prop himself up on his elbow so he’s looking down at him a little. He stares at him for a while, his eyes raking the planes of his face in the limited light.

“Do you like me?” Jihoon asks bluntly, not even blinking when he waits for a response. He can feel Daniel surveying him, his doubts pulling his guard up and making him search for something he should be wary of in a habit Jihoon now wholly understands. In the end he still nods, and Jihoon’s heart swells at the silent display of trust.

“I like you too,” he continues, the hardness of his face morphing into what he hopes is something warm when he smiles and leans slightly forward. “Don’t you think that’s enough? That we just like each other? You don’t have to think about who or what we deserve because when it all comes down to it, what matters the most is who we choose. And I choose you, Daniel.”

Jihoon has never really said words like these to anyone before, but he thinks he’s done his feelings justice when he sees a smile erupting out of Daniel’s face. He doesn’t wait or waste another second, leaning the rest of the way forward to capture Daniel’s lips again in a weighted kiss. His heart tumbles and soars again, and not for the first time is he left feeling breathless by this strange, colorful boy beneath him.

“What does this make us then?” Daniel asks him when they’ve pulled away, although the proximity of which is a debatable detail when their faces are still mere centimeters from each other. Jihoon closes his eyes in thought, letting their noses touch as he breathes more of him in.

“It doesn’t have to make us into anything...if you don’t want it to.” As hard as the fact is, Jihoon has to accept that their situation right now doesn’t exactly offer the best foundation for a relationship. And maybe this is him being reckless and selfish, but he travels down the same route he’s always been travelling and just takes it for what it is. “Can we just...live for today? And not think about anything else?”

He’s met with silence, and he counts to ten before he musters up the courage to open his eyes again. Daniel is smiling up at him; not one that quite reaches his ears but it’s genuine and full of understanding, nonetheless.

“As long as I can kiss you whenever I want, then I’m fine with that,” he says, and the short laugh he lets out is cut short when Jihoon collides their lips again for the fourth time that night.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Of all the tectonic shifts and radical changes his relationship with Daniel has ever undergone, Jihoon thinks that the situation he finds himself with him now is probably his favorite. If before there had been walls of ice—chipped away and broken down in some places—now it feels like an oasis has formed from a melted pool in the center of the frozen sheet, bringing a flow of warm water that’s akin to a hot spring bath in the middle of a snowy mountain. It’s tranquil and inviting, and Jihoon basks in all of the warmth that Daniel emits in strong, undiluted waves; hoping that somehow he’s giving enough of the same warmth back to him in return. 

The level of understanding they’ve developed has grown to the point where it’s a little hard to believe that they’ve only been travelling together for just a few months. And it’s not just because of how different things had been for them in the beginning (although that fact makes up a huge part of it), but also because Jihoon is quite certain that he’s never had this kind of connection with anyone before—not even with whom he considers his closest friends back home. What’s even stranger is that neither of them even have to say or do much to _feel_ this inherent closeness. It’s just there—existing in Daniel’s wide smiles and crescent eyes and Jihoon’s feigned aloofness and short bursts of laughter.

What they can’t express in words though, they greatly make up for in action. The drives are still occasionally silent, although not because of a cloud above Daniel’s head; these days the reason that comes up is mostly due to the fact that a lot of the time, their mouths are too busy exploring each other’s lips. Now, Jihoon is well aware that the reason why this is the case has more to do with a biological reason—they’re still two young adult men, extremely attracted to one another and pretty much alone out on the road twenty-four-seven—but he can’t really be bothered about the reasoning when Daniel’s lips still feel as soft and moist as the first night he’s kissed him.

His heart never fails to jump an olympian-level somersault whenever Daniel leans into him at the end of the day to say goodnight or when he’s greeted by a peck and a huge grin when he wakes up in the morning. He’s also started to grow an intense liking the sound of him saying ‘thank you’ whenever they stop by a convenience store to buy a few treats because it’s now always accompanied by a long kiss to the cheek. Jihoon especially loves the way Daniel positions himself between his legs when he’s sat on the edge of the flatbed so he can kiss deeper without having to tip his toes up to match his height. The feeling of Daniel’s large hands coming to rest over his waist while his own intertwines behind his neck is unparalleled and crazily addicting.

It’s quite obvious as to what these not-so-small make out sessions in between drives are leading up to, and it’s only a matter of time before they both hit hard enough to break down the wall formed by the fabric of their clothes and their figurative inhibitions. It’s to no one’s surprise or concern when they finally reach the said cusp, and the only thing Jihoon just finds himself wishing for is that they have done it _much_ sooner.

“Fuck.” The swear involuntarily flies out of his lips in the millisecond window that it’s disconnected itself from Daniel’s when he pulls his hoodie up and over his head. They’re in the backseat of the truck, parked in another clearing for the night and just having finished eating and cleaning up their dinner. It’s gotten a lot colder out so they both opted to just hang inside the cabin—and then someone’s hand landed on someone’s thigh and now Jihoon doesn’t even care that he’s only wearing a flimsy white shirt after tossing his hoodie somewhere he can’t be bothered to check at the moment.

“W-wait. My button’s stuck,” Daniel says, and his breathlessness only eggs Jihoon more. He grabs both of his hands where it’s fumbling with the top buttons of his shirt and jerks them apart, a muted snap echoing inside the vehicle when he does. 

“You broke it!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll buy you a new one.” Jihoon almost growls right before he proceeds to pull apart the rest of Daniel’s button down and ultimately releasing every button from its thread. If Daniel at all really cares about the state of his clothing then he doesn’t really do a good job of showing it, when in the next second he pulls Jihoon closer to him and resumes their fiery liplock.

Jihoon throws himself over his lap, straddling Daniel where he sits and kissing him with his tongue asking for entry. His permission is immediately granted and accompanied with a satisfied hiss, the heat he feels just below his stomach blazing even hotter when he feels Daniel’s own tongue inviting him in. A thousand live bolts line up and climb the expanse of his spine when he feels two large hands snaking their way under his shirt and onto his bare waist, eliciting a guttural moan and another muffled swear.

“Fuck.” This time it’s Daniel, and Jihoown swears he almost tears apart his entire article of clothing when he stretches and pulls it over and behind Daniel’s wide shoulders. They’re stripped to the thinness of their undershirts now but when he feels something hard and heady pressing at the underside of his groin, his next immediate instinct is to press himself more unto the man beneath him, making sure his own rod digs between their abdomens.

“Still think I’m little and cute?” Jihoon whispers in a dark chuckle right before he pushes Daniel down with his weight he hovers above him, taking the expanse of the entire backseat of the truck.

“Fuck.” Daniel swears in a breathless moan when Jihoon pushes his clothed hip forward again, and he almost completely loses it himself when he sees the face Daniel makes as he does—eyes drawing to a pleasured close while his mouth slightly hangs open. 

He attacks his lips again, leaning his frame over him and placing his arms on either side of Daniel’s head to support his weight. He grinds his hips for a second time, a third, and he pushes in harder when he feels hands coming to tangle over his hair.

“Do you want this?” Jihoon asks, sounding sensual but at the same time mixing in a little seriousness. He’s using every last bit of self control he has left in asking because as much as his body is _screaming_ to rip Daniel apart right then and there, he doesn’t want him to do anything he isn’t comfortable with. “You can tell me to stop and I will.”

The first answer he gets is a look of utter innocence and softness that—compared to how swollen and slick with spit Daniel’s lips are and how gloriously disheveled he looks right under him—makes Jihoon doubt if he’s even capable of stopping himself at this point. He doesn’t have to worry about the thought too long though when Daniel slightly pushes himself up to meet his mouth again in a slow and genuine kiss.

“Don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop,” he says in a bare, raspy whisper that makes the hairs at the back of Jihoon’s neck stand on end. He doesn't need to be told twice and is soon pushing Daniel back down on the seat with the force of his lips. He captures his moans, letting them out seconds later when he moves his mouth to kiss his chin, his jaw, his neck—travelling down slowly and with lingering purpose.

When he gets to Daniel’s chest and licks through the fabric of his shirt to where he sees the outlined nub of his nipple, he feels a hand grabbing at his hair and hears the loudest moan that’s ever come out of Daniel’s mouth tonight. As excited as he is to have him make even more of the sound, he looks up when he realizes that the tugging on his hair is a call for attention.

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon immediately asks, a seed of worry suddenly sprouting amidst the heat of desire in his stomach. It’s immediately quenched when it doesn’t look like Daniel’s in any discomfort, if the dazed smile on his face is anything to go by.

“S-sorry. It’s just—I think I’m lying on top of the camera. It’s poking my back.”

Jihoon blinks, and in an instant adjusts himself so Daniel can maneuver his arm to fumble beneath himself. Sure enough, he produces his camera right on his hand.

“That was under you this whole time?” Jihoon asks, eyes incredulous and wide. He may or may not have squeaked out a laugh but the sound passes through Daniel when he flushes.

“Y-yeah.”

“And you’re only saying this now.”

“Y-you felt so good and I—umm, didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“You were about to let me fuck you _the whole time_ your camera was digging through your back?”

In all the times Daniel has blushed in the past, nothing—and absolutely _nothing—_ could ever compare to how red his face is turning in this moment. There’s not even that much light and yet Jihoon can see the telltale flush in his ears as he stutters out what to say.

“W-well—umm, if you put that way—”

Jihoon cuts him off with a chuckle, and a heated kiss to the mouth a few seconds after. “God, you’re adorable.” 

Daniel chuckles along, his free hand coming to scratch at the back of his head. “Let me just keep this. Then you can umm—go back to what you were doing.”

Jihoon nods and gives him another peck then, right before he adjusts himself and gives Daniel some space to settle. His eyes never leave his figure, watching him fondly while he gropes around the underside of the driver’s seat for the camera bag. And maybe it’s the heat of the moment or his raging hormones making him think this way, but Jihoon thinks that if anyone were to ask him now just how much he likes—or even loves—this man infront of him, he’ll probably give an answer he’s never once said out loud before.

He must be way too lost over his head with these thoughts because he only belatedly realizes that Daniel has altogether stopped his search and is now just staring down at the foot of the car seats. He’s holding something in his hand, but it’s too dark to make out.

“Did you find it?” Jihoon asks, scooching over a little. The sound of his voice has Daniel looking up, and he pauses over at the expression he sees on his face. The playfulness and the blush on his ears are gone and if anything, Daniel looks even _paler._ His eyes are wide with unmistakable anxiety and fear, causing the seedling of worry in Jihoon’s stomach to suddenly shoot up another inch taller.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did you—”

And he finally sees it too, and suddenly every feeling from just a few seconds ago washes out and extinguishes itself in the space of a cold, empty heartbeat. The heat inside the truck turns arctic, and Jihoon swears he feels a shiver run right up his spine. His mind goes blank, and he can’t tear his eyes away from Daniel’s shaking hands where he’s holding the magazine with his picture on the cover.

“You knew?” Daniel asks in a voice that’s not too far off from sounding like an injured puppy’s whimper. It’s what ultimately gets Jihoon to look up again to a sight he dreads to see—Daniel’s cheeks are already wet with fresh tears sliding down his face.

“Daniel—I can explain—”

“How long?” He asks, the question coming out broken and sharp. “How long have you known?”

Of all the times Jihoon’s brain or his ability for speech can fail him, it just couldn’t have chosen a better time than this very moment. His heart is racing and he feels cold dews of sweat starting to form over his nape just as every attempt to voice out an answer escapes his mind’s immediate grasp. The cold gaze being thrown at him isn’t any help either, and second by second he just feels his tongue growing heavier.

“Answer me!!”

He jumps a little in surprise, eyes wide and shaking. Daniel’s never yelled at him before—heck, he’s _never_ heard Daniel yell at anything before.

“I—I got that from...the town where we had your photos developed...” It comes out weak and pathetic. Honest, yes—but pathetic. He eventually looks down in shame, cowering for the first time under Daniel’s own stare.

“That was...over a month ago,” he says weakly, putting the facts on the table and driving the knife deeper. “You knew all this time...and you never said anything?”

Jihoon looks up with urgency at that, his words shooting up to his mouth but lodging back up his throat when he hears Daniel hiccup a sob over his sentence. His eyes are screaming for the truth to reach him, to let him know that the reason he’s never told him is because he doesn’t _care_ about the thing he’s holding. And Jihoon is in this turmoil of forcing the words out of his system when Daniel suddenly shakes his head and quickly turns around to open his side of the door and bolt at a run.

“Daniel! Wait!” 

He doesn’t waste time and launches himself out of the truck in a chase. He tries not to think about how different Daniel’s legs are compared to his and just pushes all his might into running after him. Never mind the cold, never mind the wayward twigs scratching his face, never mind how dangerous and dark and reckless this all is because he’s fucked up and he can’t let Daniel get away.

“Let me go!!” Jihoon manages to latch onto his arm, his hand forming an iron vice around his wrist while he heaves and catches his breath.

“Daniel—please, let me just—”

“I SAID LET ME GO!”

Daniel thrashes at him, but Jihoon is no weakling and he keeps his grip even if he feels his fingers going numb. 

“Daniel, please—!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He turns on him, his voice grating on his chords and coming out rough in the quiet of the woods. “If you knew who I was all this time, why didn’t you tell me?!”

It’s a simple enough question, but ironically it’s one Jihoon doesn’t have a clear answer to. “I don’t know. Okay, I don’t know. But Daniel, I swear—”

“Everything I told you...what I almost did. You knew all along who I was when I told you those things and you still didn’t say anything!” The accusation is a shot through his chest, the truth blooming and numbing his organs. 

“I didn’t read it, okay? I didn’t read any of it. I only got it because I saw your picture—”

“And you expect me to believe that?!”

“I’m telling the truth!!” Jihoon’s grip hardens, his hands almost shaking. “I swear on my parents’ fucking graves that I’m telling you the truth. The only thing I know about you is your name and what you do—that’s it! I’ve never lied to you about anything—“

“Then why do you fucking have that thing in the first place?!”

Daniel finally shakes free from his hold, dislodging his arm in a heavy swing as he shakes his entire body away from him. He doesn’t run, but Jihoon doesn’t think the consolation is anything to have a celebration about.

“You willingly bought that thing with your own money when you saw me on the cover. You say you didn’t read it but that doesn’t change any of your intent!” Daniel lashes out, the tremble in his voice feeling like a whip to Jihoon’s limbs. "I thought we trusted each other. I—I thought…”

The tears and sobs finally win over the fight for dominance, and Daniel’s words drown in a heavy gasp of air as his body eventually gives in to its need to cry. His knees fall and he buckles over, and Jihoon only wakes his own legs up and runs over to him when he sees him starting to hit his head over and over again with his knuckles.

“Daniel—Daniel stop—”

“I’m sorry. I—I should’ve...I—I’m s-sorry—”

Jihoon ultimately gives up on relying on his brain and just acts on what his heart is telling him to do. He joins Daniel on the ground in the next instant and wraps his arms around his shaking figure, pulls him close to his own body, his chest, and hoping that he’s at least helping make things a little better when he rubs soothing motions across his back.

Neither of them say anything. Daniel is unable to talk when all he can do is wail out his tears, and Jihoon is more afraid than ever to say the wrong thing and break him even further. It comes to him then as a haunting realization that no matter the state of his relationship or the magnitude of his closeness with Daniel—even when he can kiss and touch and hold him as much and as close as he likes—this part of the equation still hasn’t changed even in the slightest.

For the very first time, Jihoon still manages to feel as helpless as all the days he ever has so in the past even when he’s already cradling Daniel in his arms as he cries.


	6. Love, Daniel

Of all the stupid things Jihoon has ever done or even so much as attempted to do in his life, this latest stunt he’s attempting has got to be the one that takes the crown.

His hands are excessively gripping the steering wheel while he drives, knuckles turning white as he incessantly gnaws at his lower lip in an attempt to keep his eyes from drooping. He blinks hard a few times, takes a couple of deep breaths before grabbing the energy drink on the cup holder next to his seat and taking a swig. The can’s nearly empty.

He tries not to count, but his body seems to know with pointed clarity that it's nearly been thirty six hours since he last had some shut eye. He was perfectly fine for the first half of the day—since he doesn't really expend that much energy on driving—but when he'd passed the twenty-four hour mark a little while ago, things had gone from perfectly manageable to downright shitty.

He knows it's stupid, just as much as he knows that it's completely dangerous and reckless for him to even be doing this since he's the one manning the vehicle and is basically in charge of keeping them alive. This whole stunt probably won't even get him anywhere and while his body is literally screaming at him to just shut down and recharge, the buried seedling of fear planted inside his mind is keeping him from doing anything of the matter.

The fear that if he were to doze off and put his guard down, he’d end up waking alone. 

Daniel's been unsurprisingly quiet since that night in the woods, and although this state is better than the alternative of him trying to run away again, his silence is neither helping Jihoon stay awake nor keep his head from travelling down the dark corners of his mind. It’s even more vexing to him that he has no idea on what to say or do about the problem at hand; his own fear of making things worse keeping him just as voiceless and resorting to stupid methods like not getting any sleep.

True to this self-inflicted form, he’s in this state of drowning in his own thoughts when he fails to hear the first time the loud blaring of a horn coming from behind them. He jumps to attention at the second honk, belatedly realizing that they’re cruising at a sloth’s pace of thirty miles per hour right before a huge freight truck overtakes him and blasts another round of horns as the vehicle equivalent of a ‘ _fuck you’._

Jihoon takes a breath, blinks a few times and reaches for his energy drink again only to feel it sloshing empty. 

“Can you pull over?”

He almost entirely believes that the extreme lack of sleep is starting to make him delirious, but a quick glance to the passenger’s seat on his right tells him what he just heard was the real thing. Daniel’s looking at him, face blank and emotionless.

“What?” Is all Jihoon can manage, his own voice sounding rough and groggy with disuse.

“I said pull over.” It’s not a question this time, and Jihoon doesn’t dwell on the request any longer and just turns on his blinker to park by the side of the road. Daniel must really need to take a leak because he doesn’t waste time himself and merely starts unbuckling and exiting the vehicle.

In the second of his absence, Jihoon starts to entertain thoughts of maybe closing his eyes for a little bit while he does his business—plans that don’t yield any fruits when he suddenly hears three soft knocks on his side of the car door, surprised to see Daniel standing right outside.

“Daniel? What are you—?”

“Let’s switch places. I’ll drive.”

He must really be out of it, because he definitely didn’t just hear that come out of his mouth. “What?”

“I know you haven’t been sleeping. It isn’t safe for you to be driving right now,” Daniel says matter-of-factly, jutting his chin a little towards him as if to state the obvious. “Let me drive for a while so you can get some rest.”

The suggestion sounds way more otherworldly than it should be but the look on Daniel’s face is nothing but complete seriousness. Jihoon blinks a few times, shaking his head in answer. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He makes to close his car door but it doesn’t budge a single inch when Daniel puts a hand to stop him. “Driving this slow on the highway is just as dangerous as overspeeding, you know. And maybe you haven’t noticed, but that freight truck just now was already the third vehicle to tail and overtake us. Not to mention you’ve downed about four cans of Red Bull already and you’re still nodding like a dashboard dog.”

Jihoon snorts, his mental state degrading him to elementary school responses. “So?”

“Jihoon—”

“I’m not letting you drive, Daniel.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because! You—!” He faces up again, biting his tongue when he realizes what almost just came out of his mouth. He clears his throat first, immediately switching lanes. “You don’t even have a license.”

He gets an eye roll, vaguely realizing that this is the first time Daniel’s ever done so in front of him.

“Just because I don’t have it with me now doesn’t mean I don’t own one.”

“Umm, it kinda does.” Jihoon pouts, the nine year old in him completely taking over.

“So what? Are you just gonna wait until we crash into a tree or something?”

“We are _not_ crashing into a tree.”

“We are if you keep acting like a stubborn old man.”

“I said I’m fine!”

This time it’s Daniel who scoffs, the sound of it coming out sarcastic and dark. “Fine? Have you had a good look at yourself lately?” He says, and Jihoon is slightly bothered by how the words sound like an echo of the same question he’s once asked him a long time ago. “Just get out of the car and let me drive Jihoon. We don’t have to argue about this.”

And because he _is_ a stubborn old man, Jihoon just crosses his arms and holds his ground. “Exactly. So stop arguing and just get back to your seat.”

“Jihoon.”

“Daniel.”

They stare each other down, and Jihoon keeps his gaze with steel-like resolve even if looking up to where Daniel is towering over him is hurting his eyes. They stay like that for a solid three minutes, neither one of them budging over the other. After about the eight car passes along them on the highway, Daniel finally sighs and runs a frustrated hand over his head, letting go of the door.

“Are you really going to be this hard headed?”

“Are _you_ really going to be this persistent?” Jihoon counters. “I said no and that’s final. So either you get back to your seat or I drive without you.”

“Go ahead then,” Daniel says with utmost ease, unrelenting and completely unbothered by his threat. “Remember what you told me? You’ve been clear about it since day one that you aren’t forcing me to stay with you, and that I’m free to go and leave whenever the hell I want to.” The words jostle something vague in memory, bringing to detail just who exactly is on top of this argument. “So go ahead. Drive without me. I’ll walk from here on out.”

Daniel turns around then, walking back south without another word or glance and leaving Jihoon to gape in a strange mix of horror and ill-formed awe. He doesn’t really notice how hard he’s gripping the wheel because his fingers are completely numbed out by now, but he doesn’t spend even ten seconds of thinking before he turns off the engine, pulls his keys out of the ignition and steps out of the vehicle with a slam of the door. He catches up to Daniel easily, jerking his arm back to turn and face him before handing him his keys and walking back to the truck in the next second.

Maybe he _is_ a total nine year old, since the reflection he sees on the side mirror as he straps himself in the passenger’s seat is one that is pouting like a sore loser. Daniel comes around soon enough, closing the door and taking the side of the wheel for the very first time.

“Jihoon,” he calls out in relative softness, but Jihoon just keeps his eyes forward even when he feels a hand coming over to land over arm. “Just relax. Get some sleep.”

“I’m fine, Dan—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He cuts him off, and the fact that he’s answered and voiced out his ulterior fear has him shutting up in an instant. “Don’t worry, okay? I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

It’s only a few words, but the brevity is enough to pull out a weight in Jihoon’s chest that has him sinking back on his seat in the next second. He nods then, and no sooner does he hear the engine running does he get his eyes to close and finally fall asleep. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The next time Jihoon opens his eyes, it's nearly pitch black all around him that the utter darkness even makes him wonder whether he's completely awake or not. He feels a blanket tucked up over the upper half of his body and just below his chin next, slightly regretting it when he pulls it away from him. It’s a little chilly and the engine is off, and he doesn’t really see the road or any part of it from where the truck is parked. He doesn't get the chance to think too hard about anything else, however, when the next thing he notices is that he's all alone; the driver's seat is empty.

His heart rate immediately spikes up, forcibly pulling him to consciousness that has him fumbling out of his seatbelt in a haste. The last words he remembers Daniel saying before he passed out echo in his mind, and he inwardly curses himself for being stupid and weak enough to fall into it. The regret is steeping and spilling over in frothy waves, but as soon as he finally frees himself from the safety contraption holding him down, he freezes.

There's light coming in from the back window of the truck, and a quick check on the rearview mirror tells him there's a person outside on the flatbed.

Jihoon loosens up, uncoiling and breathing in relief. He lets himself feel the slight shame for having doubted him, but he rolls out of it soon enough and opens the door to step out into the night.

The cold air greets him first, icy autumn winds biting sharply across his cheeks and ruffling his blonde hair. A quick survey around the area after his eyes have adjusted shows that they're in some kind of grassy plain, although the spot in which the truck is parked is left sparse and earthy presumably from all the tires that have tracked the place over the years. Jihoon pulls the collar of his shirt up, taking the few short steps to head to the rear end.

Daniel is staring at him when he starts climbing up the flatbed, face blank while his hands hover over a live pot as he pauses from what he's cooking. He’s being wary, Jihoon realizes; unwilling to speak or make the first move, or even show a crack on the outer shell of his mask. 

“What are you cooking?” Jihoon speaks first, snorting in casual habit and tipping one corner of his mouth into the smallest of smiles.

“Army stew,” Daniel answers, proceeding to fish out a piece of Spam from the mix with his chopsticks and bringing it to Jihoon’s mouth; the gesture saying a lot more than what their words can hope to achieve.

“It’s good.” Jihoon comments midchew, nodding while simultaneously scooching to take the space next to him. He’s rewarded with a smile, and he only then realizes just how much he’s missed seeing that crooked buck tooth of his.

“Did you sleep well?” Daniel asks, breaking their gaze and going back to his cooking. 

“Umm, yeah. How long was I out?”

“Hmm, pretty much the entire day.”

“Really?” Jihoon blinks, instinctively rubbing a spot behind his shoulder. ”I thought it felt longer than that. I didn’t even feel the truck moving.”

The smile on Daniel’s face grows, his eyes flashing on him for a second before going back to his pot. “I told you I could drive.”

He remembers the little argument they had earlier in the day, and Jihoon lets out a light scoff in jest. “I never said you couldn’t.”

“Wow.” Daniel faces him then, grin wide and playful. “You sure could’ve fooled me mister _‘you don’t even have a license’_.”

And maybe it’s the sudden lightness in context and knowing that they’re at the point that they can joke about it now, but Jihoon doesn’t hold back the laughter that erupts out of his lungs in that signature squeak he always makes. It doesn’t help one bit that Daniel joins along with his breathless chuckling that soon gets the both of them in mild hysterics. A breeze blows in from the east, and even the sparse grass on the field laughs with them.

When they’ve both recovered, Jihoon is slightly massaging his sore cheeks while Daniel wipes a few stray tears from his eyes. There’s a happy flush to his skin, tinting his neck and the tips of his ears a warm pink made more prominent by the light of the electric lamp sitting on the side. It dawns a little late, but Jihoon realizes soon after that Daniel's just staring at him.

“What is it?” He asks first, slightly wishing he hadn’t when all Daniel does in response is look down to take out something beside him—the magazine with his photo on it.

“Daniel—”

“It’s okay. I—umm...think it’s better that we talk about it,” he says, and although his voice is firm and steady, Jihoon doesn’t miss the hesitation underneath it .

“We don’t have to. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I think I do.” Daniel frowns a little, shaking his head. “It’s only right that—”

“No—listen to me.” Jihoon grabs his wrist then, pulling the tabloid away from his grasp and finally getting his own courage to say what he should’ve said that very night.

“Daniel, _this_ shouldn’t pressure you into telling me anything you don’t want to talk about, okay? What I did—buying this piece of trash—it was stupid and selfish and incredibly insensitive. As much as I want to take it back and forget about ever picking this up, I can’t—And that’s just what I have to live with. But _you_ don’t need to do anything. You don’t need to explain yourself or apologize because it’s my fault, not yours.”

The small frown on Daniel’s face doesn’t move, and if anything his lips are just clamping down on itself even tighter. It makes Jihoon want to reach out and ease the troubled expression away with his fingers, but he tamps the urge down and holds his patience. It takes a while, and Daniel’s mouth opens and closes a few times to nothing before he finally lets out a worded response.

“You...really didn’t read it?” 

Jihoon shakes his head in an instant, his grip involuntarily coming tighter. “I almost did. But I stashed that thing under my seat right after I bought it and forgot about it ever since—and you know why?” He holds his gaze, making sure Daniel is looking at his eyes when he says the next thing he wants to let out of his chest; making sure he feels his words rather than just hear them.

“It’s because I don’t care, Daniel. I don’t care about what it says. I don’t care about what you did or what other people think you did, and I most definitely don’t care about the opinion of whoever wrote this.” Jihoon takes both of his hands in his then, sighing a little not out of frustration, but of how heavy his own sincerity feels by saying them out loud.

“The Daniel I got to know isn’t the flashy person on this stupid magazine. The Daniel I know wears an obnoxiously loud hoodie, eats gummy bears for breakfast and laughs at every little thing I do even when I’m not trying to be funny. The Daniel I know is...a lot more complicated than a clickbait article headline made by some person who probably has never even had a conversation with you. And maybe it’s selfish of me to just _want_ to hold onto this version of you, but—”

The rest of his words get cut short and are ultimately forgotten when a pair of lips suddenly come colliding over his own. And it's as if every honest word he'd said just now serves as a precursor to the bursting heat that amplifies and explodes in his stomach in the form of flame-coated butterflies. He instinctively moves to feel more of Daniel's lips but he gets cut short again when the other person sharply pulls away, ending the kiss as fast as it came.

"S-sorry. I—" Daniel stutters, eyes wide with mild panic. "I-umm—am I still allowed to do that?"

Jihoon can only blink, and no sooner does another squeak of a chuckle come out of his chest in fondness. He raises a hand to cup one side of Daniel's face, shaking his head in awed disbelief before leaning forward again for another—and much longer—kiss. The vegetables in Daniel's stew might've overcooked a little that night, but Jihoon can't really find it in himself to mind. 

As far as normalcy goes, things pretty much go back to the way they were thereafter. Jihoon properly disposes of the trashy tabloid without another thought and they both just settle with forgetting about the whole thing from ever happening in the first place. It’s probably a little foolish to cling to a forced kind of ignorance—and Jihoon knows this largely draws on his ill habit of sweeping things under the rug—but getting back to a point where their drives are filled with lighthearted conversations and random laughter has him leaning and sticking to the side of comfort.

And then of course there’s the kissing, because getting to kiss Daniel again for however much he wants is probably the single best thing he can take away from everything that has happened.

It feels as if they’d finally gotten to the point where the roller coaster tracks are steadily climbing up to an all out high, when Jihoon soon notices that the location pin he’s set on the dashboard GPS a long while back is finally coming within reach. He smiles at the remarkable timing, trying his best to be discreet about checking the map for the nearest town they can get to so he can follow through with the rest of his plan.

Being surreptitious around Daniel isn’t very hard, and the most he gets from seemingly acting out of the ordinary is a curious upturn of his brows and an innocent question.

“We’re pulling over?” He asks when Jihoon drives around the curb to the gas station complex they pass by, completely none the wiser.

“Yeah, I just wanted to buy a few things from the convenience store.”

“Oh.” An automatic pout pushes out of Daniel’s lips when he turns a little to look at the back seat as Jihoon parks the truck. “We still have a lot of supplies though. We haven’t even touched one of the ramen packs yet.”

“I was kinda craving something sweet—that’s _not_ in the form of a gummy bear.” Jihoon sets his mouth in a tight smile, hoping his acting isn’t too terrible.

“Ya! I’m offended!” Daniel puts a dramatic hand over his chest in mock affront, bringing out a laugh and a toothy smile.

“I won’t take too long. You can stay in the truck if you want to,” Jihoon says, turning his head a little to where they can see through the store. There are a few customers inside dining in the benches, which normally goes as an unspoken red flag but to his surprise, Daniel shakes his head.

“It’s cool, I wanna walk around anyway,” he says, leaning back a bit and grabbing one of Jihoon’s baseball caps from their bags. “Let’s go!”

He wasn’t really expecting him to agree to come along, and honestly it would’ve been so much easier to hide what he actually plans to buy without Daniel tagging along. But saying no to the huge grin thrown his way is next to impossible.

The convenience store is quite expansive with an entire dining area situated on one side of the place away from the shopping aisles, complete with a flat-screen TV that's currently playing the news. The two ladies eating by the stools and the young man behind the counter don’t even bat an eye at their entry, which Jihoon takes as a good sign to linger and maneuver the things he plans to get out of Daniel’s sight.

“Let’s split up. Go and take whatever you want, okay?”

He gets a small nod and a smile, and sure enough Daniel automatically strides over to the aisle filled with colorful junk food without another word. Jihoon chuckles to himself, smiling like a fool before he heads to the other end of the store with a basket in hand.

He heads to the fridge first, picking up stuff that doesn’t really seem too out of the ordinary in case Daniel happens to peek. A few cans of beer, a carton of juice, and then that chocolate milk drink they both like. Closing the fridge door draws his eyes towards the coolers then, and he sees a box of frozen pizza that looks just too good to pass up on right next to where the tubs of ice cream are. He grabs one of each, hoping that the pizza doesn’t end up being a total fail when they attempt to cook it in a frying pan later.

The next aisle he goes to next is lined with stuff he hasn’t really shopped for in a while now; shelves full of assorted body creams, lotions, face masks and every step you could possibly need for a skincare routine. Jihoon walks over to only one section, however, and grabs the most familiar brand of swimming sunscreen his eyes first land on. Towards the end of the aisle he grabs two pairs of cheap rubber flip flops, hiding the bulk under the cans of beer and the box of frozen pizza in his shopping basket.

He finds Daniel soon enough, still on the candy aisle and holding two packs of gummy worms, and makes to call his attention until he realizes something off. Daniel’s spaced out, not looking at anything in particular while his hands are frozen in midair. It’s enough to kill the excitement Jihoon had been feeling seconds earlier when he discreetly rushes to his side, but the few steps he takes to get to him come to an abrupt halt when his ears pick up on what Daniel is probably listening to over on the other side of the aisle they’re on. The TV playing the news.

 _“—thanks to a report filed by one of the residents in the western border, what was initially counted as a suicide disappearance has now turned into an abduction case.”_ The news reporter narrates in a professional voice, her monotonous and grave tone sending a prickle of ice to Jihoon’s spine.

_“Earlier investigations had led the police to count Kang Daniel’s disappearance two months ago as suicide, largely due to the discovered suicide note in his Gangnam home around the same time. The civilian report, however, claims to have seen Kang Daniel himself in a camera store outside of the major cities and is accompanied by an unidentified person who the civilian describes as someone of intimidating nature. Police have already coordinated at the scene and, along with collected CCTV footage, have confirmed that the probability of Kang Daniel still being alive is quite high.”_

There’s a short gasp on the other side of the aisle, probably one of the women who were eating there when they first entered the place. It doesn’t help Jihoon’s nerves in the least—they know who Daniel is.

“God, can you believe it? Even when he’s supposedly dead, he’s _still_ causing trouble for everyone. No wonder even his fans turned his back on him,” one of them says, horribly clear and shrill.

“I know. What I can’t believe is that he even lied about his own death now on top of everything else.”

“Right? I never did like him. He plays all innocent but I knew he was never really the genuine kind. Do you remember when he cheated on that show before they debuted?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me—”

Jihoon bites his lips and forcibly tunes out the voices on the other side, taking the rest of the steps forward to come stand beside Daniel. He doesn’t seem to notice him, frozen save for the shaking in his hands where he’s holding the packs of candy. Jihoon puts his basket down and takes the gummies away, taking a firm grip on his wrist and tipping his toes a little to reach his ear.

“Keep your head down and head back to the truck. Wait for me there,” Jihoon whispers, using his free hand to fish for his keys before passing them to Daniel—who’s still unmoving and looking like he didn’t hear a single thing he just said.

“Dan—” Jihoon bites his lips, holding a breath before gently tightening his grasp on his wrist. “Listen to me. I’ll just pay for these and I’ll be right out with you, okay?” He says in the barest of whispers. He breathes out a small sigh of relief when he thankfully gets a shaky nod.

Daniel pulls down his cap lower and adjusts his glasses, doing as he’s told and heading straight out of the convenience store the very next second. As much as Jihoon just wants to follow suit, he knows they’ve been under the scrutiny of all five CCTV cameras since the moment they entered and it would be too suspicious to just suddenly upend and leave everything he’d already collected in his shopping basket. So he goes to the counter, makes sure to pay in cash and leaves without another thought a few minutes later. 

Daniel’s already inside the truck when he gets there, sitting still with his head still down and mostly obscured by the visor of his cap. The keys are already in the ignition, and after Jihoon dumps the stuff he bought in the back, he starts them up and drives back out onto the highway.

It’s roughly half an hour later—which terribly feels so much longer in reality—before Jihoon finally deems to have covered enough distance from the gas station complex to be able to pull over to the side of the road without feeling anyone’s eyes watching them. He turns the engine off, bathes the interior of the truck in cold silence where the only sound comes from the sparse passing of cars out on the road. He turns his head a little to look at Daniel who still hasn’t moved or said anything. His head is still down, staring at his lap with most of his expression obscured.

“Hey—” Jihoon starts to say, the question of _‘are you okay?’_ already shooting up to the tip of his tongue. But he bites it down at the last second, because it’s a stupid thing to ask when he knows that Daniel is definitely _not_ okay. He’s not feeling too swell himself either and speaking out the first impulsive thing out of his mind doesn’t seem to be the best thing to do.

So instead Jihoon sighs, rewiring his own brain to a more thoughtful approach by completely putting himself in the other person’s shoes. He reaches out and puts a gentle hand over one of Daniel’s fist-formed ones over his lap, using his stocky fingers to wrap around his slender ones.

“I’m here,” he finally says, the two words alone conveying more of his sentiments and emotions better than anything else he could’ve possibly said.

And it works. It’s so subtle and seemingly insignificant, because all that happens is he feels Daniel’s hands grabbing onto him just a smidge tighter. He doesn’t say anything nor does he even look up to meet his gaze, but this small gesture somehow easily encompasses all those responses and so much more without actually having to show it.

It’s not that huge of a leap in the grand scheme of how Jihoon envisions things to be, but at the very least and for the very first time, he doesn’t feel so helpless.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“You can open your eyes now,” Jihoon says once he’s finished parking the truck and turned off the engine. He watches with bated breath as Daniel slowly blinks open his small eyes, lets himself show the full extent of his smile when he sees them perceptibly widen the very next second.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“But—how did you—?”

Jihoon just grins even wider, taking glee from the sound of the waves entering the threshold of the truck in the absence of its running engine. “I told you I’ll take you to the sea, didn’t I?” He says, breaking their gaze to look forward at the view in front of them.

The beach isn’t that huge, but it isn’t too small either. Jihoon can easily see both ends of the alcove even without tilting his head to either side, but what the place lacks in size it greatly makes up for in its overall aesthetic—a clean and even shore with only a few outcrops of rocks spread around the vicinity, pristine sand speckled with just the right amount of beach weeds, and crystalline-blue waters stretching all the way across the horizon where it meets the sky and glints under the morning sun. 

It’s definitely pure luck that the place is completely empty of human influence besides themselves, making the discovery that much more rewarding. It wasn’t easy looking for a beach that was situated near a road, especially when Jihoon only had his GPS map to use as a way finder. It took a bit of guesswork too from where he had to start persuading Daniel to close his eyes for the impending surprise since he didn’t really know when or how the view of the waters would reveal itself during the drive. He thinks he did alright though, judging from the huge grin plastered on his friend’s face and the way he’s suddenly leaning toward him to land a kiss on his lips.

It’s short and sweet, mostly due to the fact that Jihoon pulls away before Daniel’s hands can roam any farther because then he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop himself.

“Niel, as much as i’d love to stay in here and kiss you all day, we really didn’t drive all the way here just to make out, did we?”

That gets him a mocking pout, and then another peck right before he’s flashed a pleased smile. They both step out of the truck soon enough and since neither of them really packed for anything water-friendly, Jihoon has them dressed in the loosest shirts he owns and boxers that are decent enough to pass for swimming trunks.

It doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, especially when the first thing Daniel does after setting his camera and the rest of their stuff down on a safe spot by the shore is to strip his shirt off and jump into the lapping waters. 

“Hoon, c’mon! The water feels great!” He calls out to him, like a kid to his parent.

“I gotta put on sunscreen first!”

“It’s the middle of November! You don’t _need_ sunscreen!”

“You’ll regret saying that later when you burn like—Ya!”

Daniel douses him with a hefty splash of the sea, laughing like a lunatic right before he dives back into the water to dodge the flurry of sand Jihoon kicks at him. And maybe this harebrained craziness is already an allusion of what’s to come, because whatever Jihoon had been expecting to unfold when he first thought of taking Daniel to the beach, it surely doesn’t measure up to this.

Daniel is all energy and excitement coming out in one blast, and Jihoon can swear he can almost see a tail wagging happily in between his legs every time his face scrunches up into an expression of pure joy whenever he runs around in the sand or splashes along with the salty waves. Instead of being deterred by this high level of brightness though, Jihoon simply draws from it—sharing every bit of the warmth Daniel throws at him and making it his own.

“What the hell is _that?”_ Daniel asks over to his left from where they’re both sitting by the shore, later as they’re making sandcastles with their hands.

“What? I’m making my city. These are skyscrapers.”

Daniel just laughs at him, right before he points the camera at him and clicks a quick shot. “No offense Hoon, but they look like dicks sticking out of the sand.”

“Excuse you!”

“Since when do skyscrapers have rounded tops??”

“It’s a futuristic city!” Jihoon says in defense, letting slide the fact that he just can’t form his sand structures into having cornered edges. “It’s not my fault your imagination is limited to male genitals.”

Daniel clicks another photo of him, his laughter coming out in broken and breathless bursts. “I don’t think my imagination is the one lacking here, Hoon.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see what _you’re_ making then.”

Jihoon tries not to look too fazed when Daniel scooches over to the side to show him his handiwork—a full fledged, three-dimensional castle complete with spires and a drawbridge over a moat.

“You’re looking at the kingdom of Maroowen and its devilishly handsome king, thank you very much,” he says in full smugness, brandishing his hands like a TV commercial salesman. “I’m still fixing the east wing because it’s just been attacked by a magical dragon, hopefully my dick-brained imagination can handle it.”

Jihoon feigns a scoff, knocking over one of his rounded skyscrapers when he shifts his knees on the sand. “Pfft. Show off.”

Daniel only laughs at him some more, proceeding to extend a hand beckoning him to come over to his side. “Why don’t you come and help me here? I could use another handsome prince to run the kingdom. Maybe you can make me dick-shaped hedges in the garden or something.”

“Ya!”

It occurs to Jihoon then through the layers of teasing and childish jokes being thrown at him, that he’s only ever had a few glimpses into this side of Daniel. A carefree and playful side; the part of him that is most often walled up by his inherent hesitation and self-consciousness that the sudden resurgence of it now has Jihoon slightly feeling a little winded.

"Daniel—!"

"Just relax. I'm right here."

"I don’t care if you’re right there! I can't feel the _fucking_ ground! Swim back!"

The laugh that comes out of Daniel then is disturbingly natural and way too amused considering Jihoon's hysterical state and the way he's numbingly gripping both of his shoulders for life support. “You’re doing fine. It’s fun, see?”

“I can’t believe you’re enjoying this.”

"Just paddle your feet vertically, Hoon. Like this—" Daniel makes to pull his hand away from where it's holding his hip to show him the motion, that is until Jihoon clutches him harder.

"Don't you dare let go of me! Daniel, I swear to God—!"

"Okay, okay. Relax, I won't let go," he says, grinning wide and snickering without urgency. At this proximity, Jihoon is blinded by the glint of his front teeth. "I don't think I've ever seen you this scared before. It's funny."

"Well I’m glad my rational fear of drowning in the open sea is _entertaining_ for you _."_ He manages to roll his eyes despite his predicament, only to be met with more light giggles from his human floating device. “Now can we _please_ swim back to shore now.”

“You’re not going to drown,” Daniel says, as if it’s a straight-up fact rather than a possibility. “Don’t worry. I got you.”

He can feel the way his embrace grows firmer around his waist, leaving buzzing, electric trails on the surface of his skin underneath the water.

“As gallant as that sounds, it doesn’t really make me forget that my feet _still can’t feel_ the fucking ground!”

It only gets him another round of laughter, but this time amidst wide smiles and crescent-eyed grins, Daniel pulls him closer to his body until he’s level enough to land a chaste kiss. 

“Does that make you forget then?”

Jihoon doesn’t really need to answer, because the second of hesitation he makes already has Daniel flashing a triumphant smile and locking lips with him again.

Overall Jihoon doesn’t really mind being the sole recipient of all this energy that’s seeping out of Daniel, because seeing him this happy arguably overrules everything else that could possibly be up for concern otherwise. It had only been two days ago since that incident at the convenience store, and while Daniel did regress back into his silent self for most of the journey, Jihoon can only be glad that he hasn’t sunken too low to leave any impending traces behind especially today.

Watching him frolic and be loud and rambunctious on the sands and in the water is an uplifting view in itself. The way he can’t seem to stay still with his camera in hand, taking photos of everything around him (mostly of Jihoon) in the purest way.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to consider being a model?” Daniel asks him in time with the click of his camera. He rolls the film for a new shot, switching places from where they’re lounging under the shade of one of the few trees growing near the shore to find another angle. “I’ve modeled for some brands before, and I really think you’d give everyone a run for their buck if you gave it a try.”

Jihoon playfully snorts at him, messing up Daniel’s photo by blocking half of the lens with his palm just as he clicks the shutter.

“Ugh—Hoon!”

He only snickers, right before he lays back down on the sand. “As fun and glamorous as it sounds to capitalize on my good looks to make a living, I doubt I’d even have the time for anything else once I actually start running our company,” he says, feeling a little strange how they’re so easily conversing about their lives outside of this little bubble. It isn’t a bad feeling, just strange.

“What would you want to be then? I mean, if you weren’t a chaebol?” Daniel asks, moving to sit beside him as he checks his film roll. “Or better yet, give me the wildest, most unrealistic answer you can think of with what you’d rather be.”

Jihoon chuckles at that, using one of his hands where it’s laying near Daniel and playing with the sand around his feet. “Being a pianist sounds fun. I could be a composer and maybe post up my pieces online or something.”

Daniel tilts his head, blinking like a puppy. “That doesn’t sound unachievable. You could definitely do that.”

“Yeah except I only endured like, three sessions of piano lessons when I was seven and never really touched a piano or any other musical instrument again.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Being a radio DJ sounds fun too. You know those DJ's that read letters on air and give advice and all that?”

Daniel’s lips stretch into a closed smile when he nods, the corner of his buck tooth snagging his lip. “That could work out too. You give excellent life advice.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, flicking a few particles of sand to Daniel’s feet. “What about you? What’s the craziest thing you’d want to be?”

The laugh that escapes Daniel’s chest then sounds just a little deflated, but his smile otherwise stays intact. “I feel like the job I have is already a crazy one, to be honest.” He snorts, placing his hand on the sand as well. “But if I can be anything else, I’d love to own a cat cafe.”

Jihoon blinks, a little awed by the innocence. “Well that’s not too crazy either. You could totally do that—”

“—in Hawaii.” Daniel finishes, wry and playful. “I want to own a cat cafe in Hawaii, and it has to be near the beach like this one. And I want at least ten cats and one of them has to be Siamese. Nothing less.”

And Jihoon may or may not have let out his squeak of a laugh that Daniel shamelessly captures on film, but whatever the case may be he doesn’t really care when he’s joined along in breathless mirth soon after.

The day flies by way too fast, and they soon end up sitting on the part of the beach right where the waves reach the limit of the sand just as the sun begins to set. Their duffel bag lays behind them, holding the few cans of beer and next to the catastrophe of a frozen pizza box that they attempted to cook over live flame earlier. They’re simply watching the golden orb in the sky move, slowly sinking towards the line where the sky touches the sea.

“Thank you. For today,” Daniel whispers, his voice as soft as the sound of waves, as warm as the water that meets and touches their bare feet. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. It feels really good, and better that I got to spend it with you.”

Jihoon turns his head a little to look at him. Daniel’s eyes are to the sea, giving Jihoon all the liberty of admiring the profile of his face without shying away.

“Same here. I honestly didn’t think I’d enjoy coming here as much as I did—even if you nearly drowned me earlier.”

That gets him a hefty chuckle, the sound of it carrying along with the breeze that instantly lights up the air. They stay like that for a while, just sitting in silence, sipping beers and admiring the view. Jihoon only moves to sit closer to Daniel when the air starts dropping a little, his heart blooming with sparks when an arm instinctively snakes around his torso to keep him close and warm.

“You know, I realized something earlier,” Daniel starts, a small smile evident in his tone even if Jihoon doesn’t directly see it.

“What, from exploiting my fear of open water and nearly drowning me?”

“Not that, silly.” He playfully pinches the side of his belly, which Jihoon all too easily retaliates with a backhanded slap to his abs. “I meant from today. From spending time here. With you.”

Jihoon stops his little banter to look up at him then, sensing the weight in his words and tilting his head a little in question. “What is it?”

Daniel takes a sip of his beer first, letting out a satisfied _‘ah’_ in the next breath before a pause. He doesn’t yet tear his eyes away from the sea, and he speaks along and in time with how the waves lap at their toes.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me before. About the north star and the big dipper, about using them as a guide to understand and find the reason for things. I don’t exactly know if I’m looking at the right stars or not, but…” He trails off, and Jihoon doesn’t even hide his surprise he feels when hearing that. He doesn’t interrupt though, keeping silent and just lets him go on.

“I realized that maybe...understanding _why_ things are the way they are isn’t nearly as important as simply going through them. Like, instead of focusing so much on trying to make sense of things, maybe we ought to just pour our energy into things that make getting through them worth it.” Daniel nods to himself, and the look in his eyes turns into a faraway one that it’s as if he’s saying this just as much for himself as it is for Jihoon.

“Going to the beach, swimming all day. Making sand castles and taking pictures of them. Spending the day with someone you love—it probably doesn’t make life any more rational or meaningful in a sense...but it makes for a happier one. And right now, I think that sounds a whole lot better than anything else.”

Jihoon can’t help but feel his heart lurch and shoot a spasm of warmth when Daniel’s words slowly and fully sink into him. A multitude of emotions flutter and blaze inside his stomach, igniting together and all at once when Daniel finally turns his gaze away from the sea to look at him. He doesn’t think it’s even a possible feat to stop himself from closing the space between them, kissing him for the hundredth time that day with all the passion he can muster from every cell of his body.

It’s wild and meticulous at the same time, heated with equal amounts of fire coursing through their veins. Their lips move in sync, in a way that makes Jihoon forget about where they are, why they're here, and the bumps and knots that line the rope of their complicated relationship. He just kisses Daniel like he's supposed to, like it's the very thing he was meant to do all his life, without hesitation. 

When Daniel's hands move from his waist to cup both sides of his face, the kiss languidly morphs from something sweet and innocent into something more powerful and urgent. Jihoon can taste the hint of booze on his tongue when it slides against his own, moving and exploring his mouth with the same energy that's been pouring out of him all day. Jihoon doesn't know how he even manages to handle it, but when he pulls away with his lips slick and glistening, he's left more breathless than every other time he's ever been in the past combined.

Daniel still hasn't let go of him, keeping his hands on the undersides of his jaws to maintain their close proximity and gaze. Jihoon doesn't even know how he’s ended up sitting on Daniel’s lap, or even how just being this close to him is making him feel the same fire as when they were kissing.

"What?" He asks after a solid minute has passed, when he realizes that Daniel doesn't seem to have any plans of changing their positions any time soon.

“Can I say something crazy?”

If it were even possible, Jihoon feels his heart hammering even more profusely inside his chest. He can only nod at this point, trudging with breathless anticipation as he tries his best not to melt under Daniel’s gaze. At the very last second though, he sees a sliver of hesitation cross his features; extremely subtle in nature but it assures Jihoon that whatever Daniel’s about to say next isn’t what he originally meant.

“I still don’t understand what you see in me,” he says with a shy smile, and Jihoon just rolls his eyes if only to tamp down the roiling disappointment he feels forming in his gut.

“Do you want me to make you a list then? Of how handsome and funny and kind you are? Hm?” 

The easygoing smile is back, followed by his staccato chuckle that smells full and heady. “I am though, right?”

Jihoon pulls away far enough to maneuver his hands into smacking his chest. He laughs along, following the trail of Daniel’s own hands so he’s holding them over where it’s still caressing his face.

“You are, but those aren’t really the reasons why I like you so much,” Jihoon says, closing his eyes for a second before refocusing them back at him, as if to make sure Daniel sees his honesty through his gaze. 

“You’re not perfect and I know that, but no one is anyway, right?” Jihoon smiles at him, the warmth doubling when he gets one back in return. “You aren’t the most honest person in the world, but I can tell when you’re being sincere about something—and you always are when it really matters. You can be a little wild and hard to handle sometimes, but likewise you’re just as strong and brave— _so much_ more than what you give yourself credit for. And above all else, what I like most about you isn’t even something you’re consciously doing.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at that, curious. “What do you mean?”

Jihoon pauses, moving his hands forward to wrap around Daniel’s neck so he can lean in closer to him. He plays with a few strands of his hair, tracing his finger all the way from the side of his face, his jaw, and to his chin. “You don’t know it, but you have this uncanny ability to make me want to be a better person, Daniel. I can’t describe it but...I just feel like you bring out the best in me.”

It’s like he’s stopped breathing for a bit, but Daniel doesn’t immediately form a response to that in any way. He just stares at Jihoon, the most movement he’s doing is mimicking him and playing with the blonde hair that’s hanging loose at the back of his neck.

“I wonder if you’d still say that if you got to know me the same way most people did,” he finally says, his voice soft and weak when his eyes look down in slight shame. “I wanted to tell you, Hoon. I swear I did. I can’t even count the number of times I tried forcing myself to tell you who I really am.” He sighs, a breath that’s long and heavy. “I played it out in my head, picked out the words to say and how to say them because you of all people deserve to know. But in the end...I still chose to be selfish. All because I wanted you to keep being the person that didn’t.”

The confession is so raw, so honest, that Jihoon doesn’t even think about anything else when he pulls Daniel’s chin up to face him again.

“You can tell me now. And I can swear to you that it wouldn’t change anything,” he says, voice strong with conviction. “Maybe there’s a reason why we met the way that we did, or maybe not and it’s really just a huge coincidence. But honestly, I don’t think it really matters at this point, because I can tell you right now that it’s going to take a _whole lot_ for me to change my mind about you.”

And that does it. Jihoon can see the click through the depths in Danel’s eyes even before his face breaks into a smile and he leans forward to kiss him again. It’s not as heated as the kiss from earlier and it instead feels like a decisive gesture more than anything. The way Daniel just presses his entirety to it, breathing Jihoon in and only pulling away at the right moment. Perhaps the most unexpected aspect about it is the fact that his eyes are welling up right after.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Jihoon cups his face then, his thumb catching the first tear that escapes Daniel’s eyes.

“Ah, nothing. I’m just—” He tries to say, shaking his head and giving up midway before he suddenly grasps both of Jihoon’s hands in his, encasing them over right where their chests meet. “Thank you. Thank you...for everything, Jihoon.”

He’s nodding as he says this, more tears flowing down his cheeks and passing right through his smile. Jihoon frowns a little, confused by the tears when he can tell that the smile is real.

“Hey. I’m right here, Niel. I’m not going anywhere.” Jihoon expects him to argue or at the very least, say something in contrast to his statement. But he just sniffs through and nods in earnest.

“I know. I’m just—really glad that I met you...I just wanted you to know that.”

He doesn’t completely understand why he’s saying it like that but Jihoon still nods all the same, setting his hands free to come up and wipe away the tears off his face. “I know. And I hope you also know that I feel the exact same way.”

It probably goes without saying that Jihoon has probably kissed Daniel more times today than he has ever done so in the past, seizing the full ardor of the moment and sealing it to permanence with his lips. They sleep on the flatbed that night, under the stars and bundled up with every blanket Jihoon owns to keep away the cold breeze. It’s been a heck of a day—probably the most energy he’s ever exerted for an entire twelve hours—but he sleeps the most peaceful slumber he’s ever had in return when he’s cozied up against the warmth of Daniel’s body.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


There must really be something strange with the way Jihoon’s subconscious mind works because not for the first time, he _knows_ something is different around him even before his mind even remotely enters the waking world and calls for him to open his eyes.

The first thing he notices when he does is how bright the world is with the sun high up and hitting his face. It comes into sharp contrast with the way his body feels because even under his blankets, he feels cold to the toes from the early morning autumn air. It’s ultimately this temperature that finally gets him to see just what exactly is different, when he realizes the startling lack of another heat source that’s supposed to be coming from another person’s body.

He’s alone, and there’s no immediate sign of Daniel anywhere even after he sits up on the flatbed and surveys the immediate vicinity of the beach. He tamps down the initial shot of panic that rises up his throat, telling himself that this isn't the first time he's woken up with Daniel gone so he really shouldn't be alarmed. He's probably just taking a walk somewhere he can't immediately see.

Jihoon gathers up and folds the bedding they used for the night instead, meticulously taking his time making sure each corner of the blanket is aligned and pressed. He's clinging to the mindlessness of the task too much, and it's only when he actually hops off the flatbed and walks to stash the things inside the truck that he realizes within himself why he's being so taciturn.

From where he’s standing, he can see over on the passenger's seat Daniel's turquoise and yellow hoodie, neatly folded and sitting underneath his camera and the crumpled brown envelope where he keeps his photos.

It tells Jihoon enough of what it means, and even though there's this nagging itch at the back of his mind that’s telling him he already knows this even before he'd woken up, a part of him still refuses to believe what’s staring right in front of him. He just stands there, frozen by the open car door and holding his blankets to his chest. He only ever feels how hard he's actually clutching at the fabrics when his fingers lose tact from the numbing effort.

It takes an extremely long while for him to get in the truck and sit behind the wheel, and even then he still doesn't do much besides put the keys in the ignition and stare blankly into space. There's a weight in his chest, huge and excessively heavy that has him feeling listless even though he’d just woken up for the day. He braves to turn his head to look at the things sitting next to him, to what’s undoubtedly the cause for why he’s feeling this way.

The minutes stretch into hours, but Jihoon’s perception of time is muddled by the numbing emptiness circling and making slow rounds in his head. The only thing he’s even remotely aware of at the moment is the sound of the waves crashing on the beach outside, the repetitive and calm background noise being the only thing keeping his heart from combusting.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring, and when he finally gathers up the strength to reach for the singular photo that’s clearly separated from the rest of the bunch inside the envelope, he pauses when he sees his hand shaking. He balls it into a fist, which doesn’t do much to stop the trembling so he pulls back a few inches in the next breath. He’s aware that some time passes again—much too long for such a menial task as this—before he finally grabs the particular photo between his fingers.

It’s a picture of his truck, parked under the shade of a large willow tree overlooking a small pond. The leaves in the photo are still green, playing in contrast with the maroon body of his pickup that indicates it’s been taken quite a while ago. It’s strange that Jihoon remembers this place and even being here, and yet he doesn’t know the exact location even if he racked through the details in his head. The strange feeling parallels something else that’s familiar to him, and the prickle in his chest heightens at the thought of it.

He flips the photograph to a scrawl of messy handwriting on the back, and this time Jihoon doesn’t delay the inevitable any further.

  
  


_Dear Jihoon._

_Umm—hi. I don’t really know how to start this off, but I guess the best thing to say first is that I’m really sorry. If you’re reading this, then you’re probably angry, or sad, or maybe both. And I’m sorry if this is how I’m making you feel right now, but as much as I don’t want that to be the case, I don’t think there’s any way for me to get around it. I wanna go ahead and apologize for a few more things too...things that I’ve never had the chance to bring up before because I know you don’t like hearing it. But now is probably the only chance I’ll ever get so I hope you don’t mind too much._

_I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you—and I know what you’re going to say about that, but we both can’t deny that you’ve spent money on me, kept me fed and clothed and basically took care of all my needs during these past few months. I’m sorry because there wasn’t anything I could do to help you in that aspect. You have your own problems and your own battles, and no matter how much you say that I’m never a burden, the fact remains that I still added onto that list. I’m really, really sorry._

_Having said that though, I don’t think there are even enough words in the world to convey how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. I admit that in the beginning, I had the thought that you knew who I was when you first saw me and even went so far as thinking that you might have had ulterior intentions or something. That thought didn’t last very long though, and I guess that was mainly the reason why I agreed to go with you on your trip in the first place. You_ didn’t _know who I was and you still took care of me, never once asking for anything in return except that I stop being too hard on myself._

 _I’m really grateful for everything, Jihoon. Really. I would never,_ ever _trade the time we spent together for anything in the world and I would gladly choose this over anything I have. Being with you...is the happiest I can remember myself being. And there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that the reason for that isn’t because I’m running away from my problems, but solely because it’s_ you _who I’m with._

_But as much as I want to stay and keep living like this with you—I know that I can’t. It felt amazing to just leave everything behind, but I know it’s only a matter of time before my mistakes came back and caught up with me, and the last thing I want is for you to get caught along with it. Our roads will have to end somewhere right? And I think I've already traveled far enough to see where mine does. It’s time I fixed my mess and finished what I started without dragging you any further than I already have._

_I’m sorry if this is the way I have to leave. You said I was strong and brave...but I honestly don’t think I’m strong enough to do this in any other way. I’m going to be selfish one last time by leaving my hoodie with you so you have something to remember me by, and wishing that you find it in yourself to forgive me one day._

_Thank you for being kind to me. Thank you for seeing past all my flaws. Thank you for doing the impossible and finding reasons to choose me. There's so much more I want to say to you but I’m running out of space to write, so I’ll end this by wishing you all the best and all the happiness in the world, Jihoon. You of all people deserve that. And I hope you know that whatever you choose to do from here on out—even if you can’t see or feel it—you’ll always have my support._

_Love, Daniel_

  
  


Jihoon doesn’t know how it happens, but the next time he raises his head and tears his eyes away from Daniel’s letter, the world is painted orange and pink with the setting of the sun. He’s not even reading the words anymore, and he’s just sitting there staring at the soundless scrawl written on the back of the photograph. His hands aren’t shaking anymore, and the reflection of the face staring back at him in the rearview mirror is blank and emotionless. It’s strange because he’s shaking inside, so much that he feels his organs getting rattled and misplaced all over his body. It’s strange because the weight in his chest is so _painful_ that he can’t even think of a reason why it’s not showing across his features. 

He thinks back to how he felt during his parents’ funeral before he left the city, the memory casting a shadow that feels so long ago and yet it isn’t. He remembers how he didn’t that day; he remembers bowing and thanking all his friends and family for coming to pay their respects, making his eulogy in front of everyone, and staring at the smiling faces of his parents’ portraits above their caskets all without shedding a single tear. Jihoon loved his parents—and he _loved_ Daniel. He doesn’t understand why the mirror is showing him someone who looks fine.

He finally puts the photo down, back over Daniel’s hoodie when the sun is almost gone from the sky. He starts the engine for the very first time since parking here yesterday, and he sets off to drive without another glance behind.

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon drives all night, only stopping by the side of the road twice to pee. He doesn’t feel tired, but he follows the rational side of his brain and finds a place to pull over the following night. The air is colder now, and the instant ramen he eats that night is incredibly comforting when the warmth of the soup travels down his stomach. He doesn’t know whether it’s by accident, but he’s mindlessly made a serving for two. He finishes it all though, not wanting to waste it, and he goes to sleep that night inside the truck without further debacle. He succumbs easily to a dreamless sleep.

  
  
  
  
  


He chances on a town four—or is it five?—days later and the first thing he notices is how alive the place sounds. The sound of the radio in the convenience store when he goes to shop for supplies, the chatter of other travelers at the gas station when he loads up the tank, and even the meow of the cat at the motel lobby he chooses to stay at that night is as alive as anything. It’s all a stark contrast to the deafening silence out on the road and inside his truck, but Jihoon can’t really tell which is better than the other.

The room he’s booked into is on the small side, and he sees a strand of hair on the comforter so he immediately throws it to the floor. He takes a much needed shower and wears the turquoise hoodie instead to keep him warm, sleeping with the smell of Daniel wrapped around him.

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon finally finishes the last pack of gummy bears in his snack bag during a little break he took off the side of the road. He folds the wrapper neatly much like how he’s done with all the others he’s eaten alone, stashing it in a tupperware container before putting it back in his bag. He doesn’t stay out long these days and just sticks to driving. It’s gotten too cold.

  
  
  
  
  


The first snow falls a week later, and it comes in a soft flurry on the dirt road Jihoon finds himself travelling on. He’s cutting to another highway again, taking the nearest shortcut the moment he sees that the road he was previously on was taking him to a city. 

He turns the heat up a little in the car to warm up, mostly because the cold always makes the pressing weight in his chest all the more heavier. He’s lost count of the days since he left the beach, and the feeling still hasn’t gone away nor has it lessened in magnitude. Jihoon’s learned to ignore it though by focusing on the most mindless of things. Like constantly adjusting his air conditioners so it stays on the right temperature, staring way too intently at the needle of his speedometer to foolishly keep his speed at a constant, excessively tapping around his dashboard GPS and—

A lurch and a bang, and suddenly all Jihoon can feel is a soft, pillowy force smacking him right on the face as his body is forcibly thrown forward in a harsh jerk. Something hits his arm and the top of his head where the cushions drowning his face don’t reach and in an instant it all stops—he’s still again, the truck isn’t moving.

When he opens his eyes, all he can see is darkness and white. It takes him a while to realize that he’s staring straight into his deflated airbags, smeared on one side with a blotchy dripping of red. He looks up to a cracked window, from where the front of his truck is just barely touching the thick trunk of a tree.

"Fuck."

He takes a deep breath, taking it as a good sign that nothing in his chest hurts when he does. He tries moving his fingers and both his arms and legs next, sighing in relief when all parts cooperate the way he wants them to. Besides a soreness in his right elbow and from wherever the blood on the airbag is coming from, he's generally okay. 

A look in his lopsided rearview mirror shows him the answer to one of the mysteries, when he sees a thin stream of red running down the right side of his face, matting his blonde hair to crimson in the process. He doesn't feel anything yet but he wastes no time, reaching for the glove compartment to grab some tissues to clean up his wound. 

Digging through the stash has his hand landing on a brown, crumpled envelope, and Jihoon pauses when he realizes what it is. He doesn’t even remember keeping it there, but seeing the stack of Daniel’s photos suddenly has him feeling more shaken than from crashing his truck into a tree. His hands shake and he lets go of the photo envelope, and the strangest thing happens next when his squeak of a laugh suddenly erupts out of his chest.

And it doesn’t stop. The giggles just roll out in waves until he’s laughing all out; face breaking into a lunatic’s smile while his chest heaves in hysterical chuckles. He must’ve hit his head harder than he thought, because he can’t think of anything rational for why he’s even laughing . Jihoon leans back on his seat and slams his head on the headrest amidst the laughter, and that’s when he feels something warm and wet starting to slide down his cheek.

Like a century-old dam lined with cracks and chips on the surface finally breaking, the sounds of laughter quickly evolve into something less pleasant and more in apt with his situation, and suddenly there’s nothing he can do to keep his eyes from gushing out the deluge of oncoming tears.

His voice cracks and his throat scratches against itself when he wails and screams, and the soreness in his arm travels all the way to his fists when from the punches he throws to the steering wheel. 

The tears of his parents’ death, the agony he’s felt for Daniel, and the extreme feeling of loss in failing to keep the people he loves with him—it all comes out in a torrent of rage and broken anguish the likes of which he’s never felt before. He’s been going down his road for so long with a numbing kind of strength to power him; keeping him sane and logical and completely oblivious to his surroundings all this time. And much like how he’s crashed himself into a tree, the momentum has finally caught up to him.

He can’t discern when or how, but the tears eventually stop flowing and his body soon after breathes out the last of his chest-racking sobs. His reflection is a mess, face smeared with salt-stained tears mixing with the patches of semi-dried blood that cake around a spot just below his hairline. He’s starting to feel the sting, but what he instead notices more of is the strange and sudden lightness floating over his chest.

The weight is gone. Not completely, but it feels a whole lot lesser as compared to just before he’s crashed. He turns his head to the side to where he’d dropped the envelope of photos, and he stares at its seemingly plain front, thinking of Daniel.

The last thing they talked about on the beach echoes through his mind and it’s what ultimately gets him to reach over the glove compartment again to pull out something he hasn’t seen or touched ever since he set out on this trip. His phone feels foreign in his hands, overly large and way too heavy despite it probably being the exact opposite. He waits for it to turn on and is later greeted by a photo of his dog on the screen. He stares at it for a while as a flurry of notifications he doesn’t bother reading flash up one after another, filling his screen as the device catches up to the present. It’s only when it quiets down that he pulls up the phone book and calls the topmost name on the list of his contacts.

It rings five times, then a beep resounds followed by a familiar voice he hasn’t heard in ages. 

_“Hello?”_

“Hyung.” His voice is unrecognizable, even to himself, and it only just occurs to him how unused his voice is until now. He clears his throat, takes a deep breath and counts a few seconds before speaking again.

“It’s Jihoon, hyung...I’m coming home.”


	7. Epilogue: Me After You

The sound of a muffled ringtone penetrates through the walls and the slightly ajar door of the bathroom, completely passing through any sense of urgency Jihoon ought to have as he holds himself still for ten more seconds—precariously posed in front of the mirror with one hand holding a few clumps of his own hair while the other goes at it with a flat iron.

He doesn’t care for the ringing, but what ultimately gets him to stop fussing over his hair is the follow up sound of Max's loud yapping echoing all the way across the tiles. He sighs, pulling the plug on the hair iron and giving up on creating the perfect fringe on his upstyled hair. He'd been going at it for the past ten minutes now, combing and redoing the way it falls on one side of his forehead to no success.

"I'm here, I'm here. You can calm down now," he says to his dog when he steps back into the bedroom, grabbing his phone and taking the call on speaker without even looking at the screen. There’s only one person in the world who calls him at nine in the morning.

_ "Are you up yet?" _

Jihoon scoffs, a little louder than normal so it carries over to the call when he walks to his closet. "You're seriously asking me that ten minutes before call time? What if I'm still asleep?"

_ "Then you're just going to have to go through the day in your pajamas.”  _ There's a chuckle on the other end, and the familiar sound of his building's car park gate opening.  _ "Do you need me to come up?” _

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m almost done, I’ll be down a minute,” Jihoon answers, tucking his shirt in and buttoning up in record time.

_ “Alright. Sixty seconds Park.” _

“Yeah, yeah.” The call ends with a beep, just as he finishes looping up the tie he’d prepared the night before around his shirt collar. He goes to grab a blazer to finish his outfit off, but not before his eyes linger on what’s probably the only colorful item he has hanging at the end of his clothes rack. 

Jihoon pauses a bit on his routine, taking the time to run a hand through the fabric of the hoodie he’s repeatedly worn over the years. The turquoise is a little faded now, and the yellows are starting to lose its pop from all the washing it’s gone through. But the cloth is still soft to this day, and now more than ever is the garment just as meaningful.

A light bark breaks him away from his reverie, and he turns to look at where Max is still laying on the bed but ironically reminding him of the time.

“Alright, alright. I’m ready now, see?” He says, and he takes one last look in the mirror to survey his appearance. Perfectly pressed pants, a subtle and classic belt, and a blazer to match his pinstriped tie. His clean-cut brown hair could definitely do better, but he has on more than one occasion been complimented for his natural, effortless hairstyle so he leaves it at that.

“I’ll see you later boy. Behave, okay?” He kisses the top of Max’s furry head, giving him a quick belly rub before pocketing his phone, grabbing his handbag from his desk, and stepping out of his apartment. The familiar black sedan is already running and ready by the time he makes it to the car park, and he slides into the passenger’s seat without a second to waste.

“Morning, hyung,” he greets his manager behind the wheel as they start to drive out of the building, frowning a little when he takes the clear tumbler being passed to him. “Why is my coffee  _ orange? _ ”

“That's because it’s orange juice. Freshly poured from the three-day old carton in my fridge.” His hyung just laughs at him, taking a sip from his own cup holding the same colored drink.

“Why didn’t you get us coffee? You always get us coffee.”

“Because coffee will just make you jittery and I know you’re already nervous enough as it is,” his hyung says, much too matter-of-factly to Jihoon’s dismay. “We can get coffee after.”

“I’m not  _ that  _ nervous.” He pouts, unzipping his bag and taking out his iPad. His wallpaper of a mishmash of film photos—a maroon pickup truck parked by a tree, an empty and clear beach, and the hand of a person holding a red gummy bear—placed over the white sheets of his bed greets him when he turns it on.

“Yeah and you calling me at two in the morning asking if using the word ‘stigma’ to your speech is a good idea or not is definitely not a nervous tick.”

“Hey, that was a perfectly valid question!”

That gets him a fond laugh, and it’s only when they're stopped at a red light does his hyung turn to give him a knowing look.

“You’ll do great Jihoon-ah. In fact, you’ve already done most of the work that goes into this. This last bit is just the final hurdle and knowing you, I’m sure you’ll be able to wing it just fine.”

Jihoon only hums to that, taking a sip of his juice as he opens the notepad app on his tablet. “I hate giving speeches,” he mumbles, earning him a hefty laugh.

“Oh trust me, I know. And so does my shirt that you puked on after your speech at last year’s annual board meeting.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“I’ve come prepared now though,” his hyung says, cheeky in tone as they start to drive again. “I got a barf bag in my back pocket in case you feel like throwing up your breakfast on me again.”

Jihoon playfully slaps his arm, a light giggle escaping his chest. “Your confidence in me is astounding, hyung. I’m flattered.” 

“Anything for my bratty dongsaeng.” He snickers, and whether it’s all intentional or not, Jihoon is thankful that at least some of his nerves are eased.

The lobby is already buzzing by the time they make it to their office building, with reporters and journalists and plenty of men and women in suits all heading to the same conference hall. Jihoon and his manager go along the back route, towards one of the smaller waiting rooms that would lead to the front stage they’ve set up in the hall.

He paces back and forth while he waits for the cue, furiously scrolling at the document on his tablet in a last minute attempt to make sure he has everything down. He jumps a little when he feels a soft tap on his shoulder, and he looks over at his manager who’s giving him an amused smirk.

“Now aren’t you glad that we didn’t get coffee?”

“Funny. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Jihoon says, raising an accusatory brow.

“Maybe just a little. You look way too cute when you’re nervous.”

“Ya—!”

“Sir?” One of his secretaries peeks in from the door, waving a hand in his direction. “You’re up.”

The playfulness dies down and he gulps, just as he feels a large comforting hand giving his shoulder a warm squeeze.

“You got this.” His hyung nods at him, smiling with confidence. “And if you ever feel like puking, just turn around. I’ll be standing right behind you.”

Jihoon manages to chuckle at least, elbowing his manager on the rib. He takes a deep breath, adjusts his coat and tie, and steps out into the room of camera flashes and shutter clicks.

Everyone turns their heads to him for a second when he walks in and stands behind the podium above the stage, but only the reporters with cameras up their faces retain this level of interest when most everyone else either goes back to their phones or laptops. Jihoon doesn’t blame them or take it too much to heart because, after all, he  _ is  _ the youngest person in the room.

“Hello. Good morning everyone; the ladies and gentlemen of the press, our esteemed shareholders, the members of the board, and to my dear colleagues. Allow me to first extend my gratitude to you all for taking the time to come here this early in the morning. I know it’s probably a little too early for some, so I want to say that I really appreciate everyone's efforts.” Jihoon starts off, stepping back from the podium and making a low bow. He counts to three before he returns to the mic, squaring off his shoulders and glad that at least his knees are hidden from view because he can definitely feel them shaking.

“So without further ado, I would like to introduce why I asked everyone to come here today by first sharing with you all a short story. An experience of mine that...has shaped an integral piece for what I’m about to share later.” He makes a curt nod, taking a silent breath as he fully faces everyone in the room. He can see mixed looks of both disinterest and curiosity from the crowd, but he doesn’t let neither affect him. This is it, the final hurdle.

“About three years ago before I had taken the role of CEO, I met a man on a road bridge outside the city while I was travelling. He was standing just behind the railings, and he didn’t seem like he was doing anything besides staring into space. It had been raining that day and he was obviously alone, so I drove to him and asked if he needed some help. And I guess it’s a no-brainer’s answer that he told me, a complete stranger, that he was fine and alright.”

Jihoon’s hands involuntarily clench a little from where he’s holding on to the sides of the podium, so he takes another breath—calming and whole. No matter how many times he’s replayed this story in his head in the course of preparing for this speech, he still can’t seem to get past the feeling it brings him even after all this time.

“When he turned me down, I simply nodded and drove off on my way—but I didn’t really get to go very far because I found myself driving back to him in the next minute. The rain had started picking up by then and I asked him again, and it was in that second time that he finally agreed and took my offer to give him a ride.” Jihoon makes a second of a pause to survey the audience, making sure everyone sees him when he continues. “I helped the man out of the rain, but it wasn’t until much, much later that I came to learn that this man had planned on killing himself that day. And even later, still, do I learn that I was solely the one who stopped him.”

There’s a noticeable lapse in the speed of which the camera shutters had been clicking up till now, and Jihoon can see the eyes of his audience shift their complete focus on him. Despite it though, he strangely finds that his knees aren’t shaking anymore and neither does the nervous lump in his throat threaten to make him chuck his breakfast out. Saying this out loud has reminded him of why he’s doing this in the first place—for  _ whom _ he’s doing this—and that alone gives him the confidence that nothing else could ever compare to. The next breath he takes then isn’t a calming one to soothe his nerves, but one of consent. Of acceptance.

“It was a simple act on its own, but it’s one that I’m sure that most of the people in this room would likely never do if they happen to find themselves in a similar situation. Which isn’t wrong or shameful, because I admit that the only reason I was even brazen enough to let in a complete stranger in my car that day was because I was at a point in my life where I didn’t really care about anything—not even for myself. A point that I would never wish upon on anyone.”

Jihoon looks down for a second, staring at the notes he’s made on his iPad; coming to a slight surprise to find that everything he’d just said isn’t even written on it. He smiles a little to himself, but just barely that not even the cameras are able to capture.

“But what I did that day undeniably saved a person’s life. And along the way, it made me realize just how huge of an impact our actions and decisions can make even if it’s seemingly as inconsequential as helping a stranger out of the rain.” Jihoon turns to the side to where his design team stands in wait, giving them a nod as their cue to get ready. “And it’s with this realization in mind that I, along with a few close members of my team, came to a decision to launch the very first foundation under Park Industries.”

The lights dim in time just as the projection goes up on the white wall behind him—a short animation of the galaxy, moving and twinkling with hundreds of stars until it zooms and focuses on the bright image of the big dipper. The galactic sky fades out to leave the shape of a logo on the projection; the shape of the constellation colored in turquoise and yellow, just above the words ‘Great Dipper Foundation’.

“Almost eight-hundred thousand people die from suicide each year, and data suggests that for every person that commits it, twenty more are either thinking about it or attempting it. That's an incredibly huge number, and it comes with no surprise how it’s ranked as the second leading cause of death for people aged between fifteen and twenty-nine all around the world.” Jihoon lets out a small relieved breath, silently thanking his past self for writing down all the research he’s done for this day on his tablet.

“Park Industries plans to launch the Great Dipper Foundation in hopes of giving aid to the already existing organizations who constantly fight to spread the very much-needed awareness this issue requires, and help those of us who are either struggling or knows someone who is. It is in my hope that through this, we can make a big enough change to the numbers we have now.”

He looks at every single person in the room then, meeting their eyes in a way that he rarely shows at work; with complete and open sincerity.

“It’s also in my personal hope that...this project would somehow share to everyone a lesson that I learned when I was the one struggling at a low point—a lesson that taught me one of the biggest things we can do to make a difference.” Jihoon bites his lips a bit, shifting his gaze down a little when a small flash of his memories come for him. 

“In order to make a change, for ourselves and for others, we need to learn to listen. Not just hear, because hearing is as simple as picking up on the sounds around us. Hearing is when you ask a person how they’re feeling and you nod back in response to their answer. Hearing someone is easy, but listening?” He purses his lips, shaking his head a little as he looks on to the people in the room. 

“Listening is understanding what you heard. Listening is figuring out the story behind a person’s words. It’s about realizing all the pleasant and unpleasant things, even if a lot of the times it ends up making you feel a little helpless. Listening is when you  _ feel _ all the things that contradict a person's words when they tell you they’re fine. It’s not easy, but I realized that when we take the time to listen to someone...then someone is more likely to listen to us too.”

There’s a stillness in the air right after he says that, and it awfully feels like every breath in the room is being held as his words float and linger in the air right before it all sinks in a collective exhalation. Jihoon ends his speech there with a muttered thanks and another low bow before the feeling of quiet serenity passes, immediately replaced by fulfilled warmth when a round of applause fills the room.

His mind goes back to business when his secretary then starts taking in questions for him from the press, all the while he steals glances from his manager in between; taking the two thumbs up thrown at him and smiling as if to say he won’t be vomiting today.

It’s an hour before he’s finally able to exit the conference hall, and another hour after which before he finishes engaging in pleasantries with his business peers and taking a few more photos for the press. It’s exhausting, and he’s just about reduced to being a limp vegetable by the time he finds himself alone in one of the bathrooms of their office building.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror, relishing in the quiet solitude and breathing in the final vestiges of what’s the beginning of a new page for him. There’s fulfillment and relief, satisfaction and excitement, but above all else is the kind of longing that he hasn’t really allowed himself to feel in a very long time. 

He misses the reason—the person—who’s inspired him to be the man that’s looking back at him today. He misses being everything and nothing all at once, only living in the present and careless about anything else. Jihoon wonders then what Daniel would say if he saw him now, and it hurts his heart in a mirthful way when he can immediately picture him flashing his signature grin and telling him how proud he is.

He misses Daniel,  _ so much _ , now more than ever. It’s been three years since they’ve crossed paths and a lot has happened in between, but Jihoon still holds on to all the words they’ve exchanged in that final day at the beach, all the moments they shared prior to it; just as strongly as he holds on to the small album of Daniel’s photographs inside the drawer of his bedside table, and the colorful hoodie hanging in his closet. Today he adds one more thing to the list, the parts of a person who still remains in his life even long after he’s left.

He hears the bathroom door opening before his eyes even get a chance to tear up and he’s soon staring at the reflection of his manager standing right behind him, patient and full of understanding.

“You ready to go?” 

Jihoon purses his lips, looking at his reflection one last time before he turns and nods with a small smile.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“I told you’d wing it,” his manager says later when they’re alone in the car again, his tone dripping with nothing but pride. 

“I have you to thank though.” Jihoon smiles at him as he pulls at his tie and throws the damn thing in the back. “I’m just glad it’s over. And hopefully I won’t have to do another one any time soon.”

He gets a soft chuckle, fond and hearty. “Your mom and dad would be proud. They’re probably smiling down on you right now.”

That spreads a surge of warmth to all the parts of Jihoon’s body that beats in time with his chest, a stark contrast to how he reacts by slouching deeper in his car seat.

“Can you  _ please  _ not make me emotional right now? I’ve already reached my quota for today and I haven’t even had lunch yet.” He whines, although he knows that his hyung knows just how much of it is disguised affection. “Where are we going today anyway?”

“There’s this new cafe that’s been getting a lot of hype and good reviews lately that I’ve been itching to try out,” he says, tipping his chin forward. “We’re almost there so just hold off a little more.”

Jihoon just hums, closing his eyes for a bit. “As long as I get some coffee, I’m fine with anything.”

They’re parking by the side of the street soon near a decent sized cafe just off the main road. It’s quaint and chic, having that perfect balance of class and yet staying totally trendy with the decor. It’s packed with people though, and the lunch crowd chatter inside the store is just way too alive for Jihoon’s limp-vegetable state.

He’s in the process of squinting at the menu while they wait for their turn in line when his phone suddenly rings, pulling it out and sighing when he sees Jaehwan’s face on the screen.

“You’re probably all over the news by now,” his manager says beside him, eyeing his phone. “He's probably calling to congratulate you.”

“You say congratulate. I call it spazzing and screaming at my ear as an outlet to his excitement.” Jihoon sighs, shaking his head in fondness. “I’ll take this. Just get me a large Americano and double of whatever else you’re having. I’ll wait in the car.”

Jihoon steps out of the busy cafe soon after and sure enough, it’s to the sound of Jaehwan spastically unleashing his enthusiasm in a non-stop flow of compliments and praise over the phone; telling him how his name is trending on every social media platform with pretty much good feedback all around. It ends up being a much longer call than necessary when he conference-calls Woojin to the mix and the party starts, dolphin noises and cackling witches and all.

“Guys—guys can we  _ please _ pick this up some other time? I haven’t had lunch yet and I’m starving,” he says once he starts to see his hyung coming out of the cafe with their food in hand, mouthing a ‘help me’ to which he only gets laughed at.

_ “We have to go celebrate soon! Let’s go out tonight!” _

_ “Yeah I’ll call Daehwi and the others! Let’s go—” _

“Just text me. I’m hanging up now bye!” Jihoon sighs in relief, and he once again finds himself wishing for days when he never used his phone at all.

“Here, you deserve this.” His hyung holds out his dark drink to his mouth and Jihoon sips without a second thought, eyes blowing up in energized glee.

“Oh God, this is good.” He takes the cup from him now, taking in huge sips at a time. “C’mon let’s head back. Let’s eat in my office where it’s quieter.”

They both shuffle back to the car then, hitting the road and escaping the rush of Friday lunch. Jihoon happily munches on the french fries on his lap and subsequently melts into a sloth sip after sip of his iced americano. 

“I don’t know if I’m just totally drained, but this coffee is by far the best I’ve had in a while.”

His hyung nods, humming in assent as he turns them back to the main road. “I agree. It definitely lives up to the hype. A lot of the other places we tried don't even taste as nice as instant coffee.”

Jihoon lets out a chuckle, picking up a fry and feeding one to his hyung. “Remember that place we tried two weeks ago? The really expensive one?”

“Oh God, that was terrible. That was the dishwater-coffee, right?”

Jihoon laughs again, squeaking out as a grin spreads across his face. He takes another huge sip of his coffee after a bite of fries, and his breath suddenly freezes midway through his lungs when he sees what’s on his cup. He didn’t really notice it earlier because the ink of the marker almost blends with the color of his drink, but now that he’s halfway through the thing, it’s stark and visible and completely jarring.

On one side of his cup is the unmistakable drawn-on shape of the big dipper, and underneath are the words ‘you’re amazing!’ with handwriting that’s eerily familiar. He knows that whatever it is he’s even considering is impossible—up to the fullest extent in the definition of the word—and that there’s just now way it can be real. The logical part of his brain knows that, and yet his heart still beats to what’s staring in front of him in a much stronger force.

“Hey Hoon-ah, do you wanna pick up some—”

“Stop the car.”

It just gets him a confused look, and the sense of urgency just skyrockets even higher when his manager just keeps driving.

“What—?”

"Hyung stop the car!"

They abruptly pull to the side accompanied by a few angry honks from the vehicles behind them, but before his manager can even say so much as a word, Jihoon's already unbuckled himself off his seat and is launching out of the car with his drink in hand.

"Ya! Jihoon!"

He doesn't turn around despite his hyung's yelling, doesn't think of anything else besides running in full speed back to where the cafe is. All the exhaustion from earlier has suddenly left his body only to be replaced by a surging course of adrenaline, setting alight the vigor in his limbs. Jihoon swiftly dodges and side steps every other person on the sidewalk, bumping shoulders and muttering quick apologies to a few people in an all-out sprint.

It doesn't make any sense, and he's going at this on a hunch over at the half-empty cup of coffee he’s holding. He doesn't even know what he's expecting to see and yet every cell in his body is telling him to go back and  _ run _ .

His heart is pounding and his mind is abuzz, and his vague awareness of how he's being a complete hazard on the road flies off along with what little logic and reason remaining in him. 

He's a bundle of haggard sweat by the time he crashes open the door of the cafe, earning him looks of surprise and confusion from a few of the nearby customers. He’s breathing hard and he feels his shirt sticking to his back, but Jihoon only has his eyes on the counter, on the door leading to the back rooms, and at the apron-clad people clearing the tables. His heart sinks a little when he doesn't recognize anyone, but the extreme bout of disappointment only ever hits him when his eyes trail off from the cafe staff and onto its patrons. 

It's not all, but a huge majority of the customers' drinks don't look too different from the cup he himself is holding. There are cups that have hand-drawn suns and smiley-faces. A teddy bear and a heart, a star and a face of a cat. It’s literally everywhere he turns to, and one look at his own hand immediately erases any of the splendor he thought he’d seen earlier when he first saw what was on his own cup back in the car.

All the adrenaline seeps out of him in an instant and the weight of his legs suddenly scream out from the overexertion. He chuckles at his own foolishness, shaking his head as he turns around and exits back through the main door.

Maybe it’s because of the speech he gave earlier. He’s been way too emotional lately and finally unveiling his project to the world has him thinking of Daniel more so than he usually does. It’s not the first time he’s had this episode, so deeming himself as completely delusional is just about as normal as it goes for him. Or maybe he’s just really hungry.

He's in the process of coming up with an explanation for when he meets up with his hyung again as he starts walking back down the sidewalk a rustling to his right by the alley of the cafe catches his attention. He turns his head in an instinctive response to the sound and not for the first time today does his blood freeze over his veins.

It’s just one of the cafe staff taking out the trash, the man closing the lid on the dumpster stands to the side and is brushing his hands over the back of his pants. His hair is black and a lot shorter than Jihoon's memory. He's not wearing glasses and the name tag pinned on the right side of his apron reads  _ Euigeon _ . But that's where the difference ends, because every other thing about the person—the shape of his face, the proportions of his body, the mole under the side of his right eye—is an exact replica of Daniel.

The man—Euigeon—now starts turning back from the dumpster and finally sees him. Their eyes meet and he freezes in his step, and Jihoon can swear that he can feel his heart completely going at a standstill as they stare each other down. 

He can't move and he can't breathe, the sweat on his back feels cold and his ears are deaf to the world and the only thing running through his mind at the moment is a silent question.  _ Is it you? _

He gets his answer after what feels like an eon, when the dark haired man offers him the smallest of smiles and the right side of one his front teeth snags at his bottom lip. Jihoon’s coffee spills and falls to the ground then, making a mess on the sidewalk when he runs at full speed and crashes his body to the other person, hugging him tight.

Jihoon can feel his heart beating again, in a way that makes him feel like it hasn't been doing so in the last three years. He knows he's probably causing a scene, and that he'll have more explaining to do for why he's bawling his eyes out in the middle of a busy day on this person's chest.

But he doesn't think about that, at least not for now. Because at the moment, all that matters to him is that Daniel is  _ alive  _ and whole and real in front of him. All that matters is that he's in his arms again where he’s soon similarly being embraced and pulled close with just as much force as he’s giving. All that matters is that he’s with him and he’s  _ here. _

And this time, Jihoon is never letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the 2nd fic that has taken me SO LONG to write (7 months!!!) and I've been working on this on-and-off along and in the middle of writing [Never The Same Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22986007) and [Lucky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410597). I swear I was almost at the point of just dropping this altogether but...well I guess I just love writing (and niewlink) so much that I just couldn't. I am a very firm believer in "writing for yourself" as opposed to doing it so other people can read and I guess this story is sort of a testament to that since I know by now that there aren't a lot of us here anymore with the ship dying and all. So if you made it all the way here, let me just say thank you, thank you, thank youuu for still reading my stories despite everything. And while it's a huge fulfillment in itself that I actually managed to finish this, it's still an amazing feeling to know that someone else also appreciates the effort, so thank you!
> 
> On another note, I mentioned in the beginning how a lot of things inspired me to write this story. I wanted to say that one of them is that momentous moment in a Wannaone VCR of Daniel saying how Jihoon is sort of like his 'mental manager', and I think it pays to mention as well that Daniel's real-life mental struggles actually contributed a lot to how I wrote him here and for the plot. It's not my intention to 'romanticize' mental illness in any way but rather, I wanted to write a story from the perspective of a person who knows or cares about someone going through it. I hope I didn't offend or make anyone too uncomfortable, but feel free to scream at me if you feel the need to by any means hahaha :D
> 
> @eightleggedfox


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